Begin
by Daalny
Summary: A look at the beginning of Richard and Isobel.
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Daniel Miller was the head of Downton Cottage Hospital. He had been here since the beginning, and now the new building had been commissioned by the fourth Earl of Grantham. The endowment allowed for newer forms of technology to come to the hospital along with better heating as well as more beds. Along with the new additions a junior doctor had been dispatched to which Dr. Miller was relieved. The man would be arriving today by train and Miller would be meeting him at the station. The morning passed and soon it was time for Dr. Miller to depart, one of the locals saw him and offered to give him a lift on his trap which he graciously took.

"where to doctor?" Farmer Mason asked.

"The station if you please." Daniel said as he got comfortable in the bench seat.

"If you don't mind me saying so you haven't packed much."

Daniel laughed, "Meeting a new recruit, we'll have fresh blood at the hospital."

Since there was no rush Dr. Miller sat on the bench near the platform. He finally had five minutes to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to will the sun to ease the aches and pains of his arthritis. He was loath to admit but he was old, not so much in years but weary. He hoped that the addition of this junior doctor would led to a full position. On paper this man was being sent here to finish up his training to be fully licensed as a General Practitioner. Daniel hoped that Downton and the new Hospital could get this man to stay so he could take over and Daniel could get some rest. With his eyes still closed he could hear the train approaching. Finally the signalmen waved green and the passengers began to disembark. A man exited the second class car carrying the telltale doctor's bag. This was his man, still he waited on the bench as his new recruit confidently retrieved his suitcase but not before helping a woman with hers.

_He has some manners on him that will help_ Daniel thought.

Stifling a groan Dr. Miller rose from the bench and made his way over. The man turned and saw him, "Are you Dr. Miller?"

_Scottish_ Daniel's mind supplied.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Daniel Miller." He said as he regarded the man in front of him. Late twenties, perhaps early thirties, clean shaven with blonde hair that seemed to curl just a bit and piercing blue eyes. The junior doctor set his case down on the ground before extending a hand, "Dr. Richard Clarkson."

Dr. Miller had loosened up enough that he chose to walk back to the hospital pointing out landmarks on the way. Daniel made small talk but found Clarkson to be on the quiet side. He even commented on it, "You haven't said much."

Clarkson cocked his head to the side, "Well, I've been listening to what you have to say. I find it mighty hard to talk and listen at the same time."

_Touche_ Thought Miller as he mentally nodded in satisfaction. "you're Scottish."

At this Clarkson rolled his eyes, "Yes and before you start I've heard all the insults and jokes so I'll kindly ask you to spare me."

Miller couldn't resist, "Jokes…really?"

Clarkson's left side of his mouth curled up into a sly grin, "Oh Aye, we're all sheep shaggers up North. Not cultured like you English."

Miller swallowed, "Well I hope you have a thick skin. I hate to say it but you might get a few more barbs like that here. I would like to think that we English are cultured but sometimes I think the Romans were doing us a favor."

Clarkson grinned again and Miller with him. Soon the hospital neared. "I'm afraid a cottage isn't ready for you yet. One had been requisitioned but there has been some...developments."

Clarkson knew not to pry, he had also been living out of suitcase during his residency so wherever they found him a bed he didn't mind. As it turned out he would be staying at the hospital in a small duty room until the cottage business could be sorted. The truth was that the fourth Earl of Grantham was dying. His son Robert was soon to become the Fifth Earl of Grantham. Also the future Earl was expecting his third child in a matter of months. Things like cottages were not on the forefront of his mind.

Richard placed his suitcase on the small bed before popping open the case and retrieving a long white coat. He shrugged off his suit jacket and pushed his arms into the coat. He then opened his doctors bag and stuffed his stethoscope into a pocket.

Miller was impressed by the work ethic already showing in Clarkson, then again it was 1895 and all things seemed to be possible.

A brief tour and then it was rounds. The nurses seemed to take a shine to the junior doctor. They never seemed to be on hand when Daniel needed a pen but seemed to have an infinite supply shoved up sleeves when it came to the young blonde. The first and only time he had innocently asked for a pen nearly resulted in pulled hair when two of his nurses fought over which pen he should take. Since then he had made sure to affix a fountain pen in his pocket at all times as a talisman to ward off evil spirits. The way Clarkson dealt with women had Miller laughing. The man seemed so oblivious to the women around him. He was kind to them but didn't seem to engage them in idle flirting or gossip. During a tea break Miller asked him, "Did you have a bird up North?"

Clarkson snorted into this tea, "No, I don't. Residency and my studies to become a general practitioner leave little time to court a woman." He raised his cup to his lips before putting it down again, "besides, nothing against the women here but so far I haven't met the right woman."

Miller made a face before sipping his tea, he knew all too well how the bachelor life coincided with the life of a doctor. Slowly, Clarkson was introduced to the Village. Miller had him start with the new babies that had been born as well as the children before having him see some of the more older patients. Miller had to make sure that the Village trusted Clarkson or he would not flourish. There were the odd holdovers, a older woman named Gladys who refused to have Clarkson touch her. Miller was on a call out so Clarkson merely handed her a book. When she looked at him in confusion he merely stated, "To pass the time. Dr. Miller went to Longview farm for a birth. Could be a while the least I can do is give you a book." Gladys shot him a look that could have peeled paint but he simply ignored it telling her, "I like the character on page twenty-two." It took Gladys a quarter of an hour before she finally let Clarkson near her with his stethoscope. A quick listen and her lungs were free from the crackles that had been plaguing her signaling an end to her bronchitis.

Three months into his stay the Fourth Earl of Grantham died. The funeral was epic and it seemed everyone attended. Clarkson volunteered to man the hospital while most of the rest of the staff attended the funeral. Robert Crawley became the Fifth Earl of Grantham. What the village didn't know was that in the changeover Robert discovered a financially crumbling estate. His wife's riches infused new life and he swore to protect it. Soon his third child would be born and it the baby would grow up in the Abbey as home. Lord Robert already had two daughters, Mary and Edith it was an unspoken want that this third child be a boy. It was during a night shift when Clarkson answered the door to a footman. He merely grabbed his bag, clipped it onto a bicycle and followed the footman into the night. He watched in awe as the Abbey came into view. He hoped his appearance in half a suit and white coat would be forgiven. As he was ushered inside he could hear the cries of a woman in active labor. He quickly followed the butler to a room and recalled the notes on his patient. Lady Cora Crawley still had a good two weeks before the estimated delivery. The fact that she had already bore two healthy children and had tolerated pregnancy well gave hope that this birth would go smoothly.

"Dr. Miller" the woman gasped.

"No, it's Dr. Clarkson tonight but I am here for you and this babe." He told her in a calming voice. He opened his bag and withdrew some equipment. Half an hour later the fifth Earl of Grantham had another daughter. Richard had been asked to announce it to the man. A maid kindly pointed out the way for him to go and the doctor went obligingly. He found the Lord in the library, "Congratulations M'Lord you have another daughter."

The relief on the man's face was palpable and she held out his hand shakily for Clarkson to shake it.

"Thank you, thank you, Doctor…"

"Clarkson" Richard provided.

"Yes, Dr. Miller has spoken about you. I'm sorry we haven't met sooner but circumstances." The word circumstances had been augmented with a wave.

"Of course M'Lord." Richard felt a tad uncomfortable and quickly added, "Anything else I can do for you tonight?"

Lord Robert sighed comically, "No, I think we can all try and get some sleep."

Richard held his bag, "I can come in the morning for a check-up. In the meantime I'll have a nurse sent over if you wish."

"Yes, thank you." he said with another wave.

Dr. Clarkson was escorted outside, once again he mounted his bicycle and pedaled off into the night his white coat flowing behind him. The next day he received two things first was a note of acknowledgement from the abbey and the second was a key. A cottage had been found.

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**A/N: Hope you like something a little different. **


	2. Chapter 2

After months in a duty room and before that the small dormitories the Cottage Richard had been provided seemed like a mansion. He had bought some bed linens in the village, he made up his bed and hung up his clothes. Other than a few handful of items he hadn't brought that much with him. Truth be told he didn't own much. For a moment he wondered how people put up with it, having knick-knacks, vases, ornaments, and other types of decoration everywhere. He had mentioned this to Daniel as the two shared tea and Daniel had raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Richard asked in genuine confusion.

Daniel smirked, "As village doctor you're going to start getting gifts, you better think of something that you want to collect."

Daniel's words were prophetic, Gladys had dropped by with a small package it was book. Soon it became common knowledge that Dr. Clarkson was a connoisseur of literature. While it was true that Clarkson loved a good book the small bookcase in his cottage soon became overwhelmed. In the end he purchased some lumber and created shelves along the side wall, essentially turning one whole wall of his sitting room into a library. He had various copies of Shakespeare, Scottish poets and Philosophy.

Isobel Crawley was in a quandary. Her marriage of seven years had ended with the death of her husband. She was still called Mrs. Crawley however, one of the older nurses had called her Miss Turnbull on accident. Both names were correct but the problem lay with what to do about it. Should she cling to the name of her husband or should she go back to her maiden name? She had been in mourning for close to three years. Black was becoming a tad boring and if she was truthful she was lonely. She had her work as a nurse but the married couples she and Reginald would spend time together seemed to have closed ranks and while they had all said she was welcome the mood was not inviting. Having been married she was not generally invited to go out with the single nurses after work. Her life was comfortable enough, she had employment though for the most part it was not needed. Both Reginald and her brother Edward had seen to Matthew's education fund. Matthew, she sighed. Last year he had tested for and had been accepted into the Manchester Grammar School. It would be an incredible opportunity for him but she couldn't help but feel another family member was leaving her. That was why she had sought out employment again. It was deeply satisfying to feel useful. The hospital that she worked at was new, not new in establishment wise but new to her. There were no memories here and while her both of her surnames caused a momentary stir in peoples thoughts for the most part they ignored it. She was a damn good nurse and that was all that mattered.

When the invitation had arrived for The Ball of Physicians in Lincolnshire. She surprised herself by accepting it. She had attended the Ball ever since she was eighteen. First being by her brother's side and then her husbands. After Reginald had died her brother Edward had tried to coax her out to go but she had refused, the past three years she had been absent. This year was different, upon seeing the invitation she posted a reply almost immediately. After that her thoughts had been filled with promise, she was going to be amongst people. She wasn't going to tell Edward that she was going. If he knew he would probably insist that she go with him. However, with his marriage to Sarah she didn't want to interfere. The last thing she wanted was her brother feeling torn between his sister and his wife. She would not allow that so she kept the knowledge of her attendance a secret. The fantasy of the Ball was something to look forward to. While she had no clue who would be there or what she would do with her time she found it gave her something to think about. She entertained the idea of getting her haircut and during lunch breaks she would walk the high street looking at gowns.

Dr. Richard Clarkson was in a good mood he had returned recently from his exams and the hospital was in good working order and so far this week there hadn't been the unbridled chaos of last week. Two patients had been admitted for pneumonia and one hadn't been strong enough to survive. That coupled with injuries left and right. Young Jeremy Baird had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm, while Gladys had sliced her hand cutting up an apple. It was a strange turn about, now Gladys would only take treatment from Clarkson. Dr. Miller had enjoyed the show immensely, he hoped that this would solidify Dr. Clarkson's resolve to stay in the village.

The post had arrived and Dr. Miller, grabbed the first envelope on instinct and opened it as he read he quickly discerned that the letter was not for him nevertheless he stood and called for Clarkson to be called to his office. The tall blonde strode in and Miller came from round his desk to shake his hand.

"Congratulations!" Daniel said his voice tinged with joy. "You passed, you are no longer a junior doctor. I'm sorry I opened this by mistake."

Dr. Miller watched as the younger man's face broke into a grin. "Have you gone through any other pieces of my mail?"

Daniel scoffed and returned to his desk before tossing him an envelope, "Here you go fair is fair open that."

"You have been cordially invited to attend the Physician's Ball in Lincolnshire." Richard read in a steady voice.

Dr. Miller seemed to pale and Clarkson's cheek twitched in a praiseworthy attempt not to laugh. An idea then struck Dr. Miller and he looked at Clarkson with an assessing glance. Richard looked over his shoulder to see what had garnered Miller's attention. Clarkson's clever mind was quickly putting together what Miller was thinking.

His faced turned stony, "No, I refuse to go."

Daniel tried to sound reasonable, "Look it would be a good opportunity for you to make connections...network."

Richard's accent was beginning to thicken, "I'm not some young lass at a debutantes ball."

Dr. Miller softened a bit, "I admit it's a rubbish assignment but you are now a full fledged doctor and you will need to form the connections, meet others in your field. Now, no offense but do you have a set of tails? If not I will buy you some."

Richard knew an olive branch when he saw one and nodded in acquiescence, "Yes, I have formalwear. Might need a bit of a pressing."

Miller put his hands up in a placating gesture, "I'll take care of it, I'll also pen a response letting them know that you will be attending. Since you are a doctor with full privileges at this hospital."

The knowledge that he was now a full partner at hospital soothed the sting of the forced social situation. However, unlike Isobel Turnbull Crawley he was dreading the Ball.

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**A/N: Not to sure how I feel about this one, please let me know your thoughts**


	3. Chapter 3

Dr. Miller was going to enlist the help of his nurses to help get Clarkson's finery ready but then he thought better of it. If the nurses had fought over giving the man a pen what would they do if they discovered that he was going to the ball? He shuddered to think of the caterwauling that would commence over them wanting to be his escort. Miller knew better than suggest a woman for Clarkson to take, after his declaration over tea he knew playing matchmaker, while being a good diversion, was not a good idea. In the end Old Lady Gladys washed and pressed Richard's evening attire, taking the time to mend a seam and removing the smallest of stains. Miller had gone to the silversmith and purchased a pair of cufflinks as a gift for Clarkson taking his place. Clarkson would travel to Lincolnshire Friday Night and stay at a Hotel. He would attend the Ball on Saturday and then return to Downton late Sunday.

Isobel had found the perfect gown, she had seen it in a window and it had stopped her dead in her tracks. Never before had she been overwhelmed with the need to possess an object. Nonetheless at that moment she marched into the shop and calmly demanded it. The gown needed only needed minimal heming so she wouldn't step on it other than that it was a perfect fit.

Clarkson boarded the train begrudgingly, he was in no mood to travel to Lincolnshire, and was absolutely in no mood to socialize with other doctors in a ballroom. However, socializing with doctors in some other venue was appealing but the whole atmosphere of a ballroom was beyond intimidating. Also the falseness that was exuded, the small talk and the pretentious gossip gathering was akin to torture. With his newly gained status as a General Practitioner Richard would be a virtual unknown, hopefully he could walk into the ballroom shake hands with a few others, gather their names and then escape back to his hotel. He had promised Dr. Miller that he would give it his best but he had also promised himself not to stay all night. His brooding had made the trip seem instantaneous. He felt that he had just stowed his luggage and sat down before the train was slowing to pull into the station. He found his hotel, checked in and promptly fell asleep. In the morning he decided not to shave, leaving it for later so he wouldn't be scruffy at the Ball. Since he had the morning to kill he decided to explore the city, eating lunch at a fashionable restaurant before returning to the hotel. As per Gladys' instructions he had hung up his finery as soon as he had entered the hotel room letting gravity remove any wrinkles that may have taken up residence during the train ride. He then washed and shaved before dressing.

As he walked through the lobby he saw some others in similar dress, no doubt they were all going to the same place. It was a short walk to the venue, others had already gone inside. Richard gave his name and he was welcomed inside. The room had been split, dance floor up front and tables in the back. A waiter asked for Richard's drink order and he declined. While he desperately wanted a whisky to steel his nerves he had promised it to himself as a reward after the Ball.

Edward and Sarah Turnbull were sitting comfortably at a table enjoying the atmosphere of the Ball. Edward was glad to see that Sarah was enjoying herself, this was one of the perks of being a doctor's wife. His eyes scanned the room and he saw people he knew, Dr. Franklin McCormack more commonly known as Frankie. There was Dr. James Markham and his wife Lily he heard Sarah suck in a breath and turned toward her. She looked like she had seen a ghost. He turned in the direction of her sight line and saw a woman in a sky-blue dress. It took him a moment to realize it was his sister Isobel. He looked around her and saw that she had no escort, she should not be here. He rose from the table and hissed to Sarah that she should stay at the table.

Richard had been people watching, he was resorting to a game that he and the other medical students would play at social functions-guessing the specialty of the physicians. Generally physicians on the portly side tended to be pediatricians. This stopped when a woman came into the ballroom. While most of the women were in black or silver she was wearing a silk dress the color of the sky. Her honey blonde hair was tied up gracefully in a knot and her skin resembled alabaster with its lightness. He was transfixed by this woman and kept his gaze on her. He watched as another man moved purposefully to intercept her. They were far enough away so he couldn't hear their conversation but the body language screamed feud.

When the man's hand shot out and grabbed the woman's wrist it was obvious that the gesture was unwanted. He quickly left his position and strode over where he could begin to hear snippets of the conversation.

"I was invited, I'm not leaving!" The woman said.

"You have to go, you shouldn't be here!" The man hissed his fingers tightening.

"Let me go." She said her voice small.

Richard had had enough, "The lady said to let her go."

Edward gave what he considered to be an intruder a murderous glance, "This is my sister."

"I don't care!" Richard stated his accent noticeable, "She told you to let her go."

The situation was beginning to draw the attention from individuals at other tables and the grip was released and the woman's other hand began rubbing her arm. The man was still determined, "Fine, if you're going to stay you can sit with Sarah."

The woman's eyes flashed, "Thank you for the offer but I won't be sitting with Sarah."

"Just pray tell what will you be doing?" Her brother asked his voice laden with menace.

Her face tightened in fear and Richard found his voice, "She'll be dancing with me." He cocked his elbow and Isobel took it, and he led her away to the dance floor.

As he held her he could feel her start to relax in his arms. He spun her away from the tables so she was facing the band and he scanned the crowd before asking, "What was that all about or would you rather not talk about it?"

She sighed, "My name is Isobel Crawley. That man is my brother Dr. Edward Turnbull. This is the first time I've attended this ball since my husband's death. My brother is of the opinion that if I am to go out in public I need a chaperone."

Richard turned them again and moved them across the dance floor. "Well that is most succinct explanation of events I've ever heard. By the way my name is Richard Clarkson, as you have probably guessed I'm a doctor."

Isobel laughed and moved her body closer to her dance partner, he didn't seem to mind in fact he maneuvered his hand to the middle of her back to hold her more securely. Under his palm he could feel the delicate texture of the silk, "Lovely frock this."

Glowing under his praise Isobel blushed before explaining, "I saw it in the window and I was just overcome with the urge to have it." She looked up at him, "Have you ever seen something that you just had to have?"

His eyes bore into hers and her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of it before he murmured, "Yes."

* * *

**A/N: I think I have this one cracked now.**


	4. Chapter 4

So intent was Richard's stare into those beautiful brown eyes he forgot that he was encircled by dancing bodies. He accidentally collided with another couple, he turned and said, "Sorry." Isobel too was broken out of her reverie and heard the couple, "What was that?" The woman asked, "Just some caber tosser" The man replied as he moved them away. Richard heard it too and chose to ignore it however Isobel's face hardened. Clarkson drew her closer and whispered, "Pay it no mind."

Isobel tilted her head up so she could whisper back to him without others overhearing, "does that happen a lot? Do people say things about you just because you're Scottish?"

The music had changed slightly, he adjusted his grip before slowing his pace. "Lets see, you've just heard caber tosser, on the rude side there is Sheep shagger, then pipe blower" His eyes darted to the ceiling in thought, "oh and transvestite."

"Transvestite?" she repeated softly a little confused at the term. He could see her puzzlement and spoke softly, "Wearing kilts you see...transvestite." While his voice held no pain at these words there was a flicker of hurt behind those piercing blue eyes.

"And you've been called all those things?" She asked again her voice small.

He nodded and Isobel's face fell, she knew things like this happened. She herself had heard the whispers around her due to her being born with the surname of Turnbull and for marrying Reginald. However, here in this ballroom where nearly everyone had taken an oath to abstain _from whatever is deleterious and mischievous._ They were doing a bang up job of_ not_ doing just that!

Richard distracted her from her thoughts by asking her about her occupation. She told him that she was a nurse and he nodded in satisfaction. Generally when she told someone she was a nurse their eyes would glaze over. The worst offender at this could be doctors, they sometimes treated nurses as more incompetent and stupid than laypeople. Richard had none of that arrogance and it was refreshing.

The dance floor was beginning to swell with people and bodies began to surge. Richard and Isobel were starting to get jostled more and more. Isobel could see that Richard was craning his head, looking for an exit. "On the left behind you." Isobel supplied. Not once did he let go of her hand as he led them off of the dance floor and to the door she had mentioned. The night air seemed almost frigid after the heat of the ballroom. The exit she had identified had led them into the back garden. Many other couples were strolling the grounds not doubt enjoying the immaculate gardens. "This night has definitely been not what I expected." He said.

"How's that?" Isobel asked.

"I've really only just become a General Practitioner, a few months out really. I work at a small Cottage Hospital and my boss well now he's my partner got me come here in his place. I can't stand social functions but our Hospital is going to need the connections. I readied myself that I was going to just walk in shake a few hands, get a few names, and then leave. I wasn't going to linger and I certainly wasn't going to dance." He said with his mouth pulling up into a grin.

Isobel's sigh was almost melodic, "I was thinking the same thing. You see my intention incoming here was to be surrounded by people and actually engage with them. As a nurse I'm surrounded by other nurses, doctors and patients but they don't know what to do with me. I'm a widow so either I'm ignored or treated as extremely fragile. No one seems to speak to me so my intent was to get lost being here trying to remember all the names and desperately trying to keep names with faces of people. I didn't expect to spend the evening with just one."

They continued walking until they heard water running, there was a small water feature nearby and Richard leaned up against a stone railing and sighed in contentment taking in the surroundings. Isobel closed the distance and stood before him a small smile on her lips, "I never said 'Thank you.''

Richard's eyes widened before he said, "I should be thanking you. I practically dragged you onto the dance floor. I was expecting a slap."

Isobel's eyes danced, "Where, where did you think I would slap you?"

Richard chuckled before raising an index finger and pointing at his cheek. This was the second time in a week that Isobel felt the overwhelming urge to possess something. She leaned in and placed a kiss on the spot he had pointed to.

Time slowed, Richard had heard this phrase before when he had been treating patients. Generally it was during an accident when the patient would say, "I saw it coming and time slowed down." At this moment he could smell her perfume, feel her lips on his cheek and he was lost. He turned his head slightly and pressed his own lips against hers. It was chaste, and low light of the moon and with Isobel's silky dress she seemed like the Goddess Vesta.

It only took a second but sometimes that's all it took, for a fire to start burning, a mob to riot, or to lose one's heart.

Richard pulled away, "I'm sorry"

"Are you really?" Isobel asked genuinely.

He could deny her nothing, "No."

The smile she graced him with was dazzling and she leaned in to kiss him again when she heard her name.

"Isobel." It was her brother and this time she doubted that Richard could save her by another spin on the dance floor. She would leave but it would be on her terms.

She turned to her brother, "Edward, I'm leaving now."

Richard straightened up, "Thank you for dance Mrs. Crawley. I do hope you the rest of your evening is enjoyable."

Her smile was sad but still beautiful, "Thank you Dr. Clarkson."

She turned toward her brother before she heard him, "Which hospital?"

"I beg your pardon?" Isobel asked confused.

"Which hospital do you work at?" He asked again this time clarifying the question.

"St. Mary's" She said in a clear voice. She extended her hand for him to shake which he did, his thumb caressing the soft skin near her thumb. She could feel the gaze of her brother boring into her skull but she wasn't going to be rushed in this. Tonight she felt as though she had rejoined the human race and it was thanks to him.

She turned and saw her brother standing a few paces away she passed him and went back through the door into the ballroom. Edward waited a few seconds behind her no doubt watching to see if Clarkson was going to follow her. Richard knew to stay put he wasn't going to risk a brawl here. Soon Edward left and Richard was alone in the garden, he turned back to the sound of running water and got lost in it's soothing rhythm.

Isobel expertly navigated the throngs of people on the dance floor she could feel her brother close behind. She was not in the mood for an argument, she saw Sarah to her left who called her name. Isobel ignored her. With people still arriving to the ball there was a line of Hansom Cabs along the street. Isobel practically dove into one and gave instructions to the driver. The cab began to move and Isobel let out a laugh at her escape.

Richard didn't know how long he stood there but soon he too felt the need to leave. The dance floor was still bustling and Richard dodged couples. He exited to the street and walked along it to his hotel.

In his room he carefully removed his formal wear, taking the time to place the cufflinks back into the small blue box. He turned down the bed and climbed in. As he closed his eyes images of Isobel Crawley in her sky-blue dress danced in his mind.

In the morning Richard asked the concierge for the address of St. Mary's Hospital in Manchester. After some time a slip of paper was delivered to him. In his room he found a few pieces of hotel stationery and he sat at the small desk and crafted a letter.

Isobel knew that she would be receiving guests, if her brother could be called a guest. With the death of their father and with Reginald dead, Edward had took it upon himself to manage Isobel's life. She had already broken away by leaving the Royal Infirmary and finding work at St. Mary's. Last night had been another demonstration that she was going to be in charge of her own life. She spent the morning playing cards with Matthew. He was nearing the age of eight and would be leaving for the Grammar school. Apart from the Ball last night she intended to spend every second she could with him.

Around 11 the bell rang, Matthew answered the door, "Hello Uncle Edward."

"Hello Matthew, is your Mother home?" A voice from the door inquired.

"Of course she is, where else would she be on a Sunday?" Matthew delivered before dashing off.

"Where else indeed." Edward murmured as he came into the sitting room. Isobel was gathering up the cards into a neater pile.

"Let's discuss the Ball shall we?" He asked in a condescending tone.

Isobel sighed through her nose, "Lets, I was invited to the Ball." She reached into her pocket and showed him the invitation clearly addressed to her not her and Reginald. "I went and you made an idiot out of yourself trying to get me to leave."

Edward shoved his hands in his pockets, "And that... man?"

Isobel sighed again, "That man thought you were hurting me. Which while it probably wasn't your intent your grip is quite forceful. Also he was right, just because I'm your sister would you grab Sarah that way?"

Her brother had the decency to hang his head in remorse.

"All we did was dance and talk." She told him knowing she was not going divulge the kiss in the garden since that was none of his business.

"I just don't want you hurt." Edward said contritely.

"Then let me actually be amongst people without a chaperone like some teenager. Reginald is dead, Matthew will be leaving come September. I'm lonely Edward." Isobel said trying to keep her voice from quivering.

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**A/N: I ask for patience, I have a cold and the cable company is fiddling with internet connections so we are having loss of connection.**


	5. Chapter 5

Bags in hand Richard traveled to the train station. Before he could stop himself he slid the letter he had written into the post slot. While it was Sunday it would be collected tomorrow and hopefully it would be delivered by Wednesday. The train whistle seemed melancholy and he forced himself onto the train. He was surprised that the rolling green of Downton cheered him. He exited the train, gathered his things and walked to his cottage. He removed his clothes from the suitcase sorting it into piles for washing. Before bed he wrote a note of thanks to Gladys for the care she had put into preparing his finery.

In the morning there was a bit of catch up, reviewing the notes on the new admissions while he had been gone. Dr. Miller could see that Clarkson was preoccupied, while the man was still doing his work and doing it well he knew not to pry.

Edward had sent flowers to Isobel's house as a way of apology. At first she viewed it as shallow attempt to win her favor. However, when she stopped and thought about it Edward really only did have her best interests at heart and he was truly sorry for grabbing her. Also Edward suffered from Hay Fever so for him to step into a florist was tantamount to a snake pit. As she passed by the flowers she had the fleeting thought that something should have been sent to Dr. Clarkson. She smiled at the thought of him, she found herself remembering the dances they had shared. It was a good memory and found it sustained her during low periods throughout the day.

On Tuesday during report the Charge Nurse told her to stay behind. Isobel was confused, had she done something wrong? The Nurse then handed her an envelope which she tucked into one of the large pockets of her white apron. Nurses while gentle in touch could be the worst for gossip. During her lunch break she went outside to read her missive. She was surprised to find the post mark was from Lincolnshire. Puzzled she opened it.

_Dear Mrs. Crawley,_

_ I am writing to you to once again thank you for the graciousness and generosity you showed me at the Ball. _

Isobel perked up, this letter was from Dr. Clarkson. She snatched the envelope back and saw the return address was for a hotel, no doubt the one he had stayed at. Feeling a pang of disappointment she continued reading.

_I do hope that people are speaking to you now. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation we had on the dance floor. I would be happy to speak to you again. Enclosed is the address of the Hospital where I work._

_Yours truly,_

_ Richard Clarkson_

Her eyes scanned down until she found the address with the postcode for Yorkshire. Isobel could feel herself blush, after the fleeting kiss they had shared in the garden she thought she would never hear from him again. Yet here in her hand was tangible proof that he was thinking of her too. She memorized the letter committing every detail to memory. She could see in her minds eye the emblem of the hotel at which he stayed, the slight crease on the left-hand side of the paper, and his signature. She didn't remember the rest of her shift.

In Downton Dr. Miller had reached his limit for the silence Richard was giving him and it was time to find out what was preoccupying his young Doctor. "So, how was Lincolnshire?"

"Fine." Clarkson answered his tone clipped.

"Make any connections?" Dr. Miller asked striving for a light tone.

The sigh told Daniel all he needed to know. "Did you meet anyone?"

Richard turned to the older doctor while his mouth was set in a hard line his eyes shone in remembrance. It was obvious that Richard had met _someone_ who had obviously gotten under his skin.

"Never no mind, everyone was probably too drunk." Daniel said and went to attend a patient.

"Actually you are not far off." Richard informed him as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

Seeing the change in Clarkson, Dr. Miller then told him of some of the horrific encounters he had had at the Physicians Ball. Tales of spilt drinks, drunken brawls and other oddities that only seemed to occur with doctors.

On Friday a large envelope was delivered to the Hospital and Richard was surprised to see it was addressed to him. Curiously he opened it and dumped the contents onto his desk. It seemed to be a list. Upon further examination it was a list of a names. More specifically of doctors, their specialties, and locations. Under the paper was a piece of folded paper smaller than the list.

_Dear Dr. Clarkson,_

_ Since you so graciously saved me from my brother I thought I would save you from your boss. Here is list of physicians that I have met and worked with through my late husband. I can genuinely say that each one of them should have better manners than the troglodyte we bumped into on the dance floor. I would very much like to speak with you again as well._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Isobel Crawley_

Carefully folding her note he put in his pocket while he gathered up the list of references. He marched into the ward where he found Dr. Miller. Confidently he thrust the papers at Miller. The older doctor grabbed the paper clearly annoyed before his face began to change from annoyance to slight puzzlement to shock and then elation.

"Well done my son!" Miller said with pride.

Richard merely smirked before turning on his heel to make rounds. He patted his pocket and he mentally thanked Isobel. Later that evening when he was in his cottage he penned another letter. He had been hesitant to put more into his first letter for he did not know if it would be delivered to her unopened. Now he had her home address and he felt slightly more confident in writing to her about how much that night on the dance floor had meant to him.

Isobel was out with Matthew, he was in a shop being measured for his uniform for his new school. As the tailor fitted him he spoke to Matthew explaining what he was doing and answering any questions her son had. Isobel ordered a spare ties, an extra jumper and had the tailor place an order for a second blazer. She knew how active her son was and a rip, tear or loss could be easily fixed with some spares. This was one of the milestone moments. His first step, his first word, first tooth, learning to read, riding a bicycle and now his grammar school uniform.

As they left the shop they passed by a sweet shop and Isobel merely inclined her head and Matthew's face broke into a grin as he opened the door and held it open for his Mother. The two went inside and got lost in the vibrant colors of the confections. When they arrived home Matthew was still running high on sugar and went to play. Isobel grabbed the post and began sorting it. The first were invitations to various nursing events. She merely placed them in the back. Her attention was caught by a Yorkshire postmark and she dropped all the other letters so she could hold this one. The return address wasn't the Cottage Hospital but the postcode was the same and she knew the hand that had written it.

_Dear Isobel,_

_ I think you put too much praise into my actions at the Ball. You seem like a formidable woman capable of handling anything. Nonetheless, I found your brothers actions unbecoming of a gentleman and had to step in. Your gift of the list has been one of the most generous gifts I have ever received. In the coming weeks I will have a block of time off. Would you permit me to take you dinner? Let me thank you properly? Let me speak with you again? You name the place and I will be there. _

_Yours truly,_

_ Richard_

* * *

**A/N: If it wasn't put forth before this will be an AU story of sorts but also delving into canon.**


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner, Dr. Richard Clarkson wanted to take her to dinner. Part of her wanted to pen a response immediately but she didn't, she wanted to hold onto this feeling a little longer. The feeling of being wanted. Instead she placed the letter in her bedroom on her dresser, safe from prying eyes and went to play with Matthew. Over the next few days as she and Matthew would walk along the city center in Manchester, Isobel took note of the restaurants. One in particular caught her attention it also had the added benefit of being a near an inn. She asked each business for a card and put them in her handbag.

The end of summer was rapidly approaching and with it the Autumn would signal the return on students. Hopefully the rash of injuries among children would diminish under the watchful eyes of instructors. Perhaps only a playground scuffle to deal with? Richard's neck was sore from the rubbing of his stethoscope. Today had been a clinic for the village children to clear them for school. He had been taking temperatures, measuring heights and weights and listening to lungs for most of the day. In the afternoon Dr. Miller brought him a cup of tea which lifted his spirits. When the last student had left Miller had told Clarkson to go home. There had been no new admissions so there was no need for two doctors to be on hand. Besides Miller had pulled rank and had Clarkson do the screenings, for it gave him more familiarity with the villagers.

As Clarkson walked to his cottage some of the villagers acknowledged him. In the beginning they would wave now they pulled their caps in salute to him. This gesture made his heart glow, to him it meant that he was now being accepted. His key hit the lock and he pushed open the door, he looked down for the post and was pleased to see some. Squatting down he retrieved the letters. One was from a doctor on Isobel's list. The other was from Isobel. Wanting to save hers til last he opened the letter from Dr. Franklin McCormack. It was relatively straightforward, Dr. McCormack was a cardiologist and would be happy to take referrals. Clarkson put it aside, to take to the hospital in the morning. He poured himself a whisky, got comfortable in his chair and opened Isobel's letter. As he pulled out the paper two cards slithered out, he simply grabbed them and placed them next to his tumbler. He took a sip of whisky letting the warmth of it ease his neck before he unfolded the letter and began to read.

_Dear Richard,_

_I hope you don't think I have been avoiding writing this letter, quite the contrary. I have spent the last week selecting a restaurant and I have finally chosen one. I took the liberty of sending you their card. The second card is for an Inn which is near to my home and the restaurant. In your letter you mentioned a block of time, this way I can show you the sights of Manchester if you like? Since you think me formidable I have booked a room in your name at the inn, and made reservations for dinner. If different arrangements need to be made please let me know. I do hope this letter finds you well. St. Mary's is experiencing what we nurses call the surge and purge. I'm sure your hospital has rhythms like the tides as well what with patients coming in ebbs and flows. _

Richard found himself nodding at her words.

_I know we are not supposed to speak of patients but I had a corking case last week. The mother had failed to notice that her child had measles! Nearly resulted in full isolation of our ward. Luckily things are back to what we consider normal. I look forward to seeing you for dinner Monday next at seven o'clock._

_Sincerely,_

_ Isobel_

Richard finished his drink and carefully folded up all the pieces of paper. He held them carefully, just knowing that she had touched them made him treat them with reverence. He would take the train from Downton to Manchester, now he could simply give the cab driver the card of where he needed to go. Trust Isobel to think of the details. It would be over a full week before he would see her again but he would be seeing her. Nevertheless he would be seeing her.

The time passed normally for both. Both Edward and Isobel saw Matthew off to the new grammar school. They waved as a pair along with other parents as he entered the gates. She felt a pang of loneliness but she also knew that this was needed. Matthew was already much more like an adult than she gave him credit for. This was the next logical step in his progression besides she also knew that she would see him again Friday night.

Her time and St. Mary's passed as it usually did and for this she was grateful. Richard too was finding that time was passing normally. Even with the promise of seeing one another again there was no hurry. When Matthew came home that Friday Isobel was anxious. Had he made friends? Had he been bullied? When she saw him stream out along with some other boys his face told her that he was glad to see her. However, as they made their way home he seemed sad. "Everything all right?"

"Yes Mother"

"You can tell me." She said with all seriousness.

"It's just next week can I stay for the weekend? Peter, Colin and I were all in the same classes and we're friends. They're staying this weekend the prefects are letting them explore the grounds" He said meekly.

Isobel chewed on her bottom lip, "If that's what you want then yes, you can stay next weekend."

Matthew's face lit up fully and he spent that night telling her of all wonderful things at school. Sunday evening she escorted him back, a prefect was outside the gate ushering boys in. Matthew said goodbye to his mother and walked through. Tomorrow Richard would be here, she had made a list of sights that they could go to together. When she got home she set about cleaning. While a maid came in once a week it was Isobel herself maintained her home. She found it a source of pride.

Monday came and Richard had the morning to pack before he would board his train for Manchester. He was scheduled to arrive around four, this would hopefully give him enough time to find his lodgings, change and then meet Isobel at the restaurant. Dr. Miller had wished him well.

"Where to?" The cab driver asked. Richard handed him the card and the man smirked, "Oh I know it." and they were off. The Inn was modest in size yet well furnished. Richard found his room, hung up his clothes in the wardrobe and ran a bath. He shaved and dressed before leaving. He found the restaurant at half past six, the maitre d asked him for his name and he gave it. He was shown to table to wait for Isobel. As he sat down another waiter appeared to light the candle on the table.

He didn't have to wait long for soon he heard the maitre d's voice, "This way madam." He heard footfalls and then saw her. While she was not in the ornate finery of the Ball she was still dressed impeccably and she was so very beautiful. He rose from his seat and they shook hands before she sat down. It was strange they were finally together again yet both seemed to be tongue tied. They absorbed themselves in their menu's before making selections. When they did speak it was of neutral topics, work mainly. Soon they laughing at the exploits of each others hospitals and the atmosphere lightened.

Richard took a sip of his wine, "How is your family?"

Isobel had anxiety about this question, at the Ball she mentioned she was a widow but not that she had a son. Would he still want to speak with her?

"Good, my son Matthew just started at Manchester Grammar." She studied his face for shock and was thrown for a loop when she saw none. In fact he smiled, "So he must be, what eight?"

"Yes, Matthew is eight." Isobel confirmed.

"While I know that is young does he know what he wants to do with his life yet?"

Isobel sighed, "You mean besides being a paid troublemaker?"

Richard laughed, "I meant do you know if he will follow you, your brother and your husband into the family business of medicine?"

Isobel pondered this, "No, I don't think he will and I'm glad of that."

"Do you have anymore children?" He asked.

Generally this question saddened her but not today. She simply stated, "My labor with Matthew was very long, after I delivered him there were complications. I am unable to have further children."

She expected him to say, "I'm sorry" but he didn't he merely cocked his head and murmured, "Sounds like you hit the jackpot with Matthew."

No one had ever said something like that to her before. Silence fell between them as they finished their meals. Richard had wondered if she had had children with her late husband and when it was revealed that she did indeed have a child it didn't phase him. The waiter reappeared to take their plates and asked if they wanted more wine which both declined. They did decide on coffee and Isobel learned that Richard was the oldest of three, his younger siblings were both sisters. So he too knew how meddling siblings could be. Outside the restaurant they bid each other goodbye, "I'll be at your inn tomorrow at nine, I have a place for us to go to." She told him cheerily.

Her joy was infectious and feeling bold he kissed her cheek and he could hear her slight sigh in contentment.

The next morning Richard found Isobel outside and waiting for him early and the sight made him smile. She was taking him to the Manchester Museum. They wandered the exhibits, talking about history and archaeology. Richard found the exhibit on Botany fascinating.

"Green thumb?" She asked.

"Not really, don't have the time, but you should see some of the gardens in our village. One man, Mr. Molesley has fine roses and other beautiful things in his garden. It amazes me that he can make things grow." He told her as he leaned over to inspect the petals in more detail.

They ate lunch together and Isobel warned Richard she would slap him if he tried to pay. So far he had paid for dinner, their admission tickets to the museum and he had his bill at the Inn. He agreed only because he didn't want to see her angry. She hadn't told him that she had bought tickets to theatre for night after next.

Both of them felt mutual attraction to one another but both were unable to express themselves fully. As they walked around Manchester Richard asked her, "Can you tell me about Reginald? I would like to know what sort of man he was."

Since his death many had asked her this question and she had told people bits and pieces. However, she felt Richard deserved everything. She told him how they met, and how they had married. Usually this was where she stopped but she continued on.

"I think it quite ironic that while he devoted his career to cataloguing the symptoms of infection in children he too would die of infection. He wasn't very good at being handy. He decided the back garden needed a birdhouse and thought he could build one. He cut his hand, and while we both cleaned the wound he wound up developing sepsis."

Richard remained quiet, he knew that she needed to talk.

"He knew he was dying, I knew he was dying, and we spent three days just talking. It's funny we were married for seven years and we never really talked. I mean we had discussions over dinner, talk of the season, and what we should buy but we never talked. In those three days we spoke of Matthew, of what Reginald wanted in his upbringing. We mourned for our future." She closed her mouth and licked her lips before drawing breath to continue. "His Mother refused to acknowledge that her son was dying, she honestly thought he would rally. I know that there were things left unspoken between them. Just because you know you're going to die doesn't mean you can magically solve everything. The others around me, in a poor attempt to console me, said it was better this way. Better how? That we knew it was coming? It's asinine, a slap in the face hurts no matter if you know if it is coming or not."

The rest of the afternoon passed and the air was different around them, a tension was beginning to build.

The play Isobel had chosen was an adaptation of Charles Dickens' short story The Haunted House. The gathering of spirits made Isobel think of the last conversations she had with Reginald, how he made her foreswore that she would be happy. At the time she had promised him even though she had no idea how she could be happy without him. Nonetheless, when you are in love you say "yes, I promise you" and you figure the rest out later. Richard was the answer to her promise, she knew that he could and would make her happy.

They discussed the play as they walked back along the streets. Isobel finally had gathered enough courage, "Richard, you never answered my question."

Richard stopped walking and racked his brain, "Oh, which one was that?"

Inhaling deep to give her courage she continued, "When you complimented my dress I asked you, 'ever see something that you just had to have?' You never told me what it was."

"At the Ball, leaning against a wall, watching the people arrive. Everyone came in wearing black or some other dark shade. The color of your dress caught my attention first and I thought, Who are you? My God, just who are you? I had to be with you."

Isobel had almost stopped breathing at his declaration and found she couldn't move. Slowly Richard moved towards her, his left hand coming up to gently touch her neck and the very top of her chest. His head bowed and he kissed her. At the touch of his lips her own parted and he was able to taste her mouth. His tongue darted in learning her shape and her hands tangled in his blonde hair to pull him more forcefully to her. A splash on his shoulder had him pulling away, it was starting to rain. The water was a good reminder that they were out in public and Isobel could face some social awkwardness if this moment got out. He wouldn't jeopardize her like that and resolved to take her home. It was a short distance, mere blocks, yet the rain had already begun to soak through their clothes. He saw her building and escorted her to the door. Before she could say anything he turned and left.

Isobel knew why he was leaving yet couldn't seem to do anything about it. She watched as his image seemed to shrink. No! Her mind shrieked.

"Richard" She yelled but he hadn't heard her, "Richard!"

He heard his name carried on the wind and dashed back to her, she clung to him desperately kissing any exposed skin she could find. He too was marking her as his own. Somehow they clumsily fell through the door. Richard pushed Isobel against it so it would close. Their clothes were wet and clung to their skin. The rain had made their hands cold so a button that could easily be pulled open became a genius level puzzle. Laughter echoed off the walls as they finally began to undress one another in the hall, wet clothes hit the floor in a slap. Isobel pushed Richard in the direction of her bedroom, careful to guide him so he didn't ram his thigh into a table or knock his head against a wall hanging.

Standing the middle of her room he rasped, "Tell me what you like." It then hit him, what if she didn't know what she liked?

Her stomach froze, she didn't know how to answer him. So he merely rasped, "Just tell me if you don't like something."

His hands skimmed down her flanks and she drew nearer to him, "I like that" she murmured. He tugged her mouth into a kiss and let his hands caress her back. One of his thighs nudged between hers and he could feel her. As a doctor he knew the signs of the arousal phase, her Bartholin's glands were obviously working since he felt her moisture against his thigh. She was ready for him and he moaned at the knowledge. He helped her onto the bed and drank in the sight of her, damp hair curling around her face, chest heaving. In the dim light he could see the faint white scars on her abdomen the visual reminder that she could no longer have children. His hand reached out and he caressed the scars lovingly before kissing them. Isobel felt tears spring to her eyes, it had been so long since _anyone_ had touched her like this.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm just...I don't know. I feel-" She couldn't put into words how she felt, her nerves felt raw and exposed yet it was erotic. Everything felt new.

He silenced her with a kiss before pulling back, "Do you want to stop? We can, I'll do what you want."

She gave her answer by pulling his head down to hers for another kiss.

As he continued to kiss her his hand found her hip. He tore his lips away from her so he could watch her face as his fingers went lower. Her eyes fluttered shut and he saw the white of her teeth sink into her bottom lip as he touched her.

Slowly his fingers moved before picking up speed, her breathing increased also. The heel of his hand pressed lightly and she arched into it. Richard was transfixed, how long had it been since she had felt the touch of another? How long had it been since she had surrendered everything? Her gasps were morphing into sharp cries and she was almost there. He pressed again with heel of his hand she broke. At this moment Richard knew exactly what he had been made for, it wasn't to be a doctor, or to heal the sick, it was to pleasure Isobel Crawley.

She came back to him stages, "I want you." She declared and parted her thighs in welcome. Moving between them Richard carefully rested his weight on her and Isobel keened softly. Rolling his hips gently allowed him to stretch her. Isobel's hummed at the sensation, she loved this feeling of her own body accommodating another.

Richard's own eyes clamped shut, Isobel's body was hot and soft and he began to sweat. He kept his movements small at first but Isobel's legs had tangled with his. The soft weight of her calves anchored him in the present. Flexing his hips he was able to gain more friction. Noticing that some of her hair had fallen into her face he swept it aside before nuzzling the juncture of her neck and shoulder all the while never stopping his movement. Isobel nails gouged into his shoulder as he sucked on her neck. In a move that surprised them both she pressed the soles of her feet on his calves for leverage. As she pushed down with her feet it forced her pelvis up causing her center to rub against his pubic bone and it heightened the feelings coursing through both of them. To Isobel she felt as if she was on a swing at a playground, steadily going higher and higher. His control was slipping and his head was swimming but he could feel her nearing the edge again. Determined that she get there first he moved faster however, he felt as though he was stuck in tar, each movement of his hips was taking all of his effort but he dare not stop. He moaned and hoped he wasn't making her uncomfortable with noises he was emitting. Isobel didn't care, in fact she was encouraging him.

Beneath her palms she could feel his biceps tense and knew he could come with her. She pushed up with her feet again and Richard could feel her tighten around him "I can feel that" He moaned and she did again and again before whispering "Fly". He cried out and he was gone.

Friday morning the maids at the Inn would discover that the bed in Richard's room had been not slept in. They merely tidied up and left the room alone. Not too far away maids might be needed to pick up the pile of clothes. Most of them were still damp. While the sight of a nude Richard traipsing around her home made her smile she dug out an old dressing gown that her brother had left during a visit. Isobel then set about taking care of his clothes. Today would be their last day together until they could find time again. Find it they would, she would be damned if she was going to lose him. He could see in her face that she was thinking about his impending departure. He came up behind and he and held her to him. "I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes for me to see you again."

She turned her head over her shoulder to look into his eyes, "For me? You'd wait?"

He nodded deeply and it that moment she truly believed it, there wasn't anyone else for Richard Douglas Clarkson.


	7. Chapter 7

Isobel didn't want him to go but she knew he must. He needed fresh clothes and not long after that he would need to board his train. He was still holding her from behind and she leaned back into him. His arms were strong around her and she felt tears prick her eyes. Clamping her teeth together she willed them not to fall. Richard could see and feel that she had tensed up. He also didn't want to leave, who would? The pleasures they had experienced together last night. He hummed in remembrance of it and wound his arms around her tighter. Her breath caught and he loosened his arms before turning her around, "Come here."

He kissed her again, this was different. Last night they had been surrounded by darkness, now they seemed to be bathed in light. All perceived flaws were visible. He pushed her back towards the bed, the sheets were still rumpled from where they had lain.

They came together quickly and Richard spoke raggedly to her as he pleasured her.

"I won't let you go." He rolled his hips and she moaned in acknowledgement.

"You're mine." Another thrust.

"Yours" Isobel echoed as she pushed her own body up to meet him.

"mine" he repeated again before kissing her savagely.

His growth of beard was scratching at the neck and she welcomed it. She wanted to be marked, she wanted everyone to see. It didn't take long for Richard to stop talking and she knew that he was approaching the point of no return. She maneuvered her feet onto his calves as she had last night. Richard tore his lips from hers to nuzzle her chest. Feeling the coarseness of his beard against her breasts gave her added stimulation she needed and she drew level with him. Moans, sigh, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bed was given in offering to the room.

When Richard eventually did dress she left him alone, knowing that she couldn't trust her hands not to touch him. As he went to the hall to retrieve his shoes she slipped into the bedroom and retrieved something before wrapping it in some paper. The sun was high in the sky when they left her home and made their way to the inn. Isobel stayed in the lobby while Richard quickly went to his room, changed his clothes before rejoining her in the lobby. He paid his bill and they continued on to the train station. They didn't speak, they let the silence hang between them. They didn't want to fill the remaining time they had with one another with small talk or get worked up again. The signalmen began directing passengers to their cars. Richard stood outside the door and Isobel called his name, he turned to her and she handed him the package.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her cheek before whispering, "Soon." As he straightened back up he let his lips brush over hers.

Isobel regarded him, "I think your postman might be unhappy with you before long."

His lips twitched in a laugh, "I look forward to it."

A whistle sounded and Richard knew not to linger, he climbed into the car and the door was shut. He watched as Isobel disappeared in haze of steam before the train pulled away. The train was full and while he desperately wanted to open the package he knew he would have to be patient. He would wait until he was back in Downton.

It was late afternoon when Richard's train pulled into Downton. He collected his bags and walked through the village. He remembered the first time he had done this and chuckled. His cottage was how he had left it, he dumped out his clothes and made his usual piles for cleaning. He placed the package on his bed and still he did not open it. Instead he left his cottage and headed for the hospital. Dr. Miller was surprised and grateful to see him. The young blonde while in need of a shave seemed no worse for wear. In fact he seemed in the peak of health, perhaps Manchester had healing qualities?

Clarkson ordered Miller home, technically he wasn't supposed to be on duty until Saturday morning but Clarkson knew that thoughts of Isobel would keep him awake so he figured he would start early and let Daniel have Friday night off.

Miller wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth or anywhere else. He grabbed his things and scurried off, planning to have dinner at the Grantham Arms.

Come Monday morning Dr. Miller was analyzing his younger counterpart. Something had changed, he could sense it. Clarkson had somehow become more oblivious to the women around him. It was as if he were surrounded by an impermeable soap bubble that also could repell women. "This is the first time I've had a chance to ask, how was your trip?"

Instead of ducking his head into a mug of tea, or sighing heavily Clarkson turned towards him. Telling him about the museum and the play but it wasn't his words that held Miller's attention.

The older doctor noted that Clarkson's eyes had changed, they shone, there was no longing behind them. Realization flared in Miller, before him was a man who had found his love.

While he was happy for the man he felt apprehensive, Clarkson was a good fit here and he didn't think he had it in him to break in another junior doctor. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed.

Clarkson saw his gesture, "What's the matter? Not get enough sleep?" Richard asked suddenly his face transforming from friend to doctor.

Daniel put his hands up in surrender, "It's not that, it's going to be busy and I'm just feeling overwhelmed from having a break, you know?"

Clarkson nodded before slapping Daniel lightly on the shoulder, "I'm not going anywhere."

Miller laughed, "After the tale you wove of Manchester I thought you would be on the first train."

At this Clarkson did duck his head and blush for he had entertained this fantasy but it was just a fantasy. "Yes, I had a good time and yes, I'll be going back. However, I will not neglect my duties. My work and home is here." He answered truthfully. That night as he climbed into bed he held his pillow against him. Inside the package Isobel had given him was her pillowcase. It carried her scent and he held it to him. He meant what he said to Dr. Miller, he would be staying in Downton. If he were to leave there was no guarantee that he could find work in Manchester and his father always said, "A bird in the hand was worth two in the bush." He and Isobel would find a way to be together, they would.


	8. Chapter 8

It took a few weeks but Richard was able to travel down for a weekend. He had been invited to dine at Isobel's where he would meet Matthew. Once again he took the train and had been booked into the Inn he had stayed prior. The walk to Isobel's home allowed him to calm his nerves. He rang the bell and waited, he heard pounding behind the door and it opened to reveal a lad with a mop of blonde hair and blue eyes. While his coloring was his obviously his fathers his face when he smiled was Isobel.

"Are you here for dinner?" He asked.

"Yes, I am. What are we having?"

This seemed to be the right question since Matthew made a face, "Lamb, Mother always make lamb when we have guests."

"Don't fancy it?" Richard asked with a grin.

Matthew made the same face, "Uncle Edward says to put the mint sauce on it but makes it look disgusting. Also I don't like mint."

"Try just a little pepper." Richard informed him.

"Really, that's all?" Matthew asked suspiciously.

"Trust me." Richard said as Matthew ushered him inside.

Isobel came out of the kitchen and saw Richard. Her face lit up when she saw him and he crossed the distance before handing her a bouquet of flowers. "Let me put these in some water."

All were seated around the dinner table and Richard smirked when Matthew asked for the pepper and seasoned his lamb chops. He cut a piece and took a bite, he shot a look to Richard who shot a look back. Isobel had no clue what was being communicated but it seemed harmless. Matthew asked questions of Richard which he answered. What was his profession? Where did he live? What sports did he play?

Richard in turn asked Matthew questions about the subjects he liked as well as hated a school. French vocabulary was on the hate pile while history was on the like. Isobel was glad to see the interaction between the two. She had been hesitant introducing the two but knew she couldn't put it off forever. After dinner Matthew asked to be excused and Isobel let him go leaving her alone with Richard. He surprised her by removing his jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair before rolling up his sleeves. He grabbed the dishes and began clearing the table. Isobel joined and between the two of them the table was cleared quickly.

As they washed the dishes they talked, "You'll have to visit soon, your pillowcase no longer smells like you." He said as he scrubbed a plate.

Isobel flushed at his words, "I'm working on it" she said softly.

He leaned over and dropped a kiss into her hair, "I didn't mean to push, I meant what I said 'I'll wait'"

She knew this but still she found it difficult to manage. She felt as though she was in a circus spinning plates, she had to keep her Matthew plate spinning at all times, also her work plate needed to be twirled and Richard's plate couldn't be left to fall either. Soon it was time for Richard to make his way back to his Inn. Isobel walked him to the door and before he crossed through the entryway he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft and tasted of the red wine they had drank at dinner. He could easily get lost in her taste but knew to leave.

"Good night Isobel"

"Good night Richard, see you tomorrow."

The next day found the three of them at a local park. Matthew seemed a little distant and when Isobel left to use the toilet Richard approached him. "Something the matter?"

"Do you like my Mother?"

Straight to point just like Isobel Richard thought. "Yes, I am very fond of your Mother. Does that bother you?"

Matthew shrugged, "I'm not sure. She hasn't been happy in a long time. She thinks I don't notice but I do. She seems happy with you. But are you going to leave?"

Richard decided the truth would be best, "I have to leave tonight for I live and work in Yorkshire, I'm a doctor remember. I'll tell you a secret, I'm in love with your Mother. If you'll allow it I want to marry her."

"If I'll allow it?" He asked meekly.

"Matthew, all sons eventually hate their father's for a period of time. I know you lost yours young and I don't want you thinking that I am taking your Mother from you. I can live with you hating me but I don't want you hating her. So why don't you take some time and think about it." Richard said before offering his hand for Matthew to shake.

Never before in his eight years had Matthew felt like an adult. While the tailor at the shop had answered all his question as he would an adult patron there was still an air of mollycoddling.

Matthew looked up, "I promise to think about it."

When Isobel came back she noticed a change between her two men but didn't comment on it. Richard eventually left for the train and Isobel escorted Matthew back to Manchester Grammar. Isobel and Richard continued to trade letters, when Isobel returned home from work she was greeted by a package. Inside was a light blue pillowcase, she picked it up and caressed it against her cheek inhaling as she did so. It carried the scent of Richard. What should have been a balm for Isobel made her cry, she missed Richard.

In Downton Richard was livid, it had been the most trying two days. An older patient with a history of biliary colic had been admitted again. Miller had warned him of this patient for he refused to take his bile acids. His shift had become a verbal jousting session. Currently he was in his armchair nursing a tumbler of whisky dreading the morning. His dread increased as he heard a knock on his door. He rose from his chair and padded softly over to the door ready to glare at whoever it was behind it. He swung the door toward him and it revealed a woman that looked liked Isobel but that couldn't be she was in Manchester. His shock must have shown on his face for she waved one of his letters at him. "Someone in the Village knew the address and told me how to get here."

His hand shot out and pulled her inside. His hands divested her of her coat and placed it on a hook near the door before pulling her into an embrace. The tribulations of his work melted away as he held her. He could smell her perfume and feel her warmth, Isobel too could feel his growth of beard and smell his soap and it was so much better than a pillowcase. She kissed him before whispering, "I don't have much time but I had to see you."

A warm hand touched her cheek and she leaned into like a cat. "Then lets make the most of it." He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. She smiled as she saw his bed, it was all decorated in light blue save for the pillow which was cream since it was from her bed set. A makeshift rug was formed by the clothes littering the floor and soon skin was against skin. Richard's right hand was twinned with her left as they traded kisses. Her hands explored his body finding all the spots that made him throw his head back. They made it to the bed and as their bodies collided they both sighed. It was a relief it was as if a splinter had finally been located and pulled. There was no longer irritation or inflammation just relief. Her body welcomed his weight and he kissed her neck. Isobel kissed what skin she could reach and the passion was beginning to build between them. She shifted beneath him moving her legs and Richard obeyed her silent command. The relief they felt was quickly morphed into pleasure as joined each other. His right hand was still twinned with her left and they both increased the pressure as the moved together. Soon there was no more pressure in their grips but they never released their hold on one another.

Since his bed was quite a bit smaller they arranged themselves to fit. Isobel was resting on Richard her head pillowed by his chest, his left hand massaging her scalp while his right hand was still entwined in her left. Isobel felt Richard start to speak before she heard him, "I know you're not supposed to say it after what we've done but I have to say it… I love you."

Richard could feel her smile against his skin, "I love you too."

He wanted desperately to ask her to marry him but didn't.

In the morning he escorted her to the train before going to the hospital. Weeks passed and the two traded more letters. Clarkson became a weekly staple at the post office buying stamps. One night as Richard picked up the letters that had fallen through his slot onto the floor he noticed something odd. One envelope had Isobel's address but it was not her hand. He opened it carefully.

_Dear Dr. Clarkson,_

_ I have done as you asked and have thought about it. Mother keeps your letters on her dresser. She asked me to get her bracelet the other day and I accidently knocked them off. As I picked them back I read some lines and I know that you love her. I've seen the way she looks when she is writing to you and I haven't seen her look that way in a long time. Also what you said is true. Colin actually told me he envied me since my father is dead. He says he can't stand how his Father is making all these decisions for him. Making him take rowing instead of cricket. I can't promise not to hate you but I do give you my permission to marry Mother. _

_Sincerely,_

_ Matthew Crawley_


	9. Chapter 9

With Matthew's permission came a slew of letter writing. First Richard had written to his sisters explaining his intent to marry Isobel. This consisted of five page letter as he detailed what he felt necessary to tell them. He finished the letter by asking for their Mother's ring which was currently in his youngest sisters keeping. Both Margot and Rebecca expressed their delight at their brother finally finding someone. Margot happily boxed up the ring and sent it to Richard. This weekend he would be traveling to Manchester once again but this time with a ring in his pocket.

Isobel had finally heard her son's grumblings over lamb. She had bought a pork roast instead for dinner, change should be welcomed not shunned. The bell rang and Matthew went to answer it.

When Matthew saw Richard he smirked, "Are you here for dinner?"

Remembering the banter Richard smirked back, "Yes, I am. What are we having?"

"You're in luck, no lamb tonight." Matthew said before letting Richard in.

Another bouquet was given and Isobel went to retrieve a vase. Isobel usually didn't enjoy her own cooking but tonight was different. She enjoyed the lightness of pork but Reginald didn't. During their marriage she would order it a restaurant since her husband would sulk if she made it. Matthew and Richard were discussing horses. Colin, Peter and Matthew had become inseparable, the instructors called them the Triplets. Matthew put down his napkin and addressed his Mother.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to ask. Colin is asking Peter and myself to come to his estate during the summer. He has a lot of acres and horses. I want to be able to ride one when I go- I mean if you allow it." He quickly added pouring all the sweetness he could. Isobel remembered that Reginald had been sending Matthew to lessons before he died. After his death she had been so mired in grief that she had not been able to take Matthew to country to ride. It had been years for Matthew. She herself had been born and bred in the city. Her lessons with a horse had given her the bare minimum of skills she could handle walk and a very slow trot but canter and gallop were beyond her.

She didn't know how to answer, Richard saw this and asked, "Do you ride Matthew?"

Matthew turned to Clarkson, "I had lessons but they were ages ago now, and Mother is afraid of horses."

Richard found this bit of information amusing, Isobel afraid of something?

"Are you really?" He asked.

Isobel sighed her face showing hesitation and bit of shame.

Wanting to comfort her Richard spoke, "It's nothing to be ashamed of, do you know I don't care for boats?"

"Afraid of water?" Isobel asked.

"No, just get hideously seasick." he said with disgust.

Richard put his hands on the table, "the village where I live there plenty of trails and many own horses. Why don't you and your Mother discuss it and perhaps you can brush up on your skills."

"You ride?" Isobel inquired.

Richard nodded, "Learnt when I was very young, as did my sisters. Hate to sound like the romantic Scotsman but horses were our mode of transport. A lot of miles between us and our nearest neighbor.

Matthew could see that his Mother was considering Dr. Clarkson's offer and knew not to pester lest she say "No" just to be in control and end his wheedling. He asked to be excused and it was granted. Once again Richard removed his jacket before clearing the table.

"You don't have to do this you know? You are a guest." Isobel scolded softly.

"I know but I rather enjoy it." He said as he rolled up his sleeves. The truth was he did enjoy it for it was task that gave him gratification for it was done quickly and the results were immediate. Many times in medicine a wait and see and approach was called for. Or a disease needed management, no magic cure, no sense of completion.

"That was a nice offer you made at dinner" She said after all the dishes were washed and put away. They were in the sitting side by side in Isobel's small sitting room drinking coffee, Richard put his cup down. "It's genuine, I have a lot of patients that want to thank me in some way." He rolled his eyes, "you should see my book collection. Others have offered use of their equipment or land. I have access to horses, all I have to do is ask. And yes I am accomplished rider, I can teach Matthew."

"I'll think about it." She said with a nod.

Richard leaned back into his seat, rolling his shoulders to shake out the tenseness he suddenly felt. "Will you think about something else?"

She nodded and Richard reached into his pocket. He withdrew two items, one was a piece of paper and visible the other was clenched inside his fist. "Isobel I want you to marry me. I asked Matthew for his permission and he said yes." He put the letter matthew had written on the table, proof for Isobel if she required it. He then opened his palm revealing the ring. "I know that our situations seem complex but I know we can work it out. I'm not asking you to give up your life, or your nursing. I know that Matthew is happy at Manchester grammar, I don't want you to uproot everything. You don't even have to change your name. When I saw you at the Ball I knew you were the one-the only one. Just say that you'll belong to me? "

Isobel thought back to the promise she had made Reginald, to be happy. When you love someone you say "Yes, I promise you." and you figure out the rest later. Richard was doing the same, he wanted her as his wife and knew that there were obstacles but he was going to find a way for _her_.

Her hand reached for the ring in his palm, it was adorned with a square Ruby and very old. "Yes, I'll marry you but I still need to think about the horses."


	10. Chapter 10

Isobel picked up the letter Richard had placed on the table. She believed him when he had said that he had gained Matthew's permission but she wanted to read his words. She was humbled that her son could see the love between herself and Richard. She reread the note twice but was confused on the matter of the promise not to hate. "Why would he hate you?"

Richard inhaled deeply through his nose, "Isobel please believe me when I tell you that all sons hate their fathers at some point in their lives."

Isobel bristled at this, Edward had never hated father her mind screamed before she actually thought about it. She forced herself to think, to actually look back on the past and there it was. There were times when Edward hated their father the Honorable doctor Sir John Turnbull, he had even said it.

_Edward was in Isobel's room. Apparently a paper Edward had authored hadn't been well received by his instructors and father was forcing him to rewrite it. _

_"I already wrote the paper, if Mr. Pin-head didn't like it the first time my second attempt will do no better."_

_"Pin-head?" She asked with a chuckle._

_Edward smiled back, "Mr. Pinette, we all call him Pin-head for his brain must be so small."_

_"So just write the same paper again, probably won't notice." She said with a laugh and Edward laughed too._

_"No, I won't rewrite it. I'm sick of Father sticking his nose in things that don't concern him. He's only interested in me when something has gone wrong." She swallowed hard at his words. Edward got up and began playing with one of her combs on her vanity table, "I hate him."_

Richard could see that Isobel had truly considered his words and he ploughed on, "Think of it Isobel, he lost his father, and with me in your life he could feel as though you are leaving him as well. That is something to hate a man for." Richard said as he held her hand.

"I'd like to think that Matthew is beyond that but I think I'm looking through the eyes of being his mother." She said softly as she returned the pressure on his hand. "You have been thinking."

He smiled at her, "Isobel the hard part is over, you've said 'Yes'. It's downhill from here."

"If you say so." Isobel murmured.

His chuckle was sharp, "I do, and it's also time for me to go."

Isobel swallowed, "You can stay."

His hand caressed her cheek, "Oh how I want to but you know I shouldn't."

"Tomorrow then?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"Tomorrow" he affirmed. She walked him to the door where she watched his form disappear into the night.

At the inn, Richard climbed into this bed his eyelids heavy. The past week had been nerve jangling. Twice he had thought he had lost his mother's ring only for it be exactly where he had left it. He also had the sick thought of what if Isobel said 'No' to his proposal? All these fears melted away as he pulled up the sheet. He reached for the lamp and switched it off, within minutes he was asleep.

In her home Isobel was not sleeping, it wasn't because of nerves. Everytime she moved she would notice her new jewelry. The ring seemed to catch any light. As she reached to clear the coffee cups she noticed her ring. As she unwound her hair she noticed her ring. She found Matthew in his room reading. Normally she would scold him for staying up but tonight she didn't she came in and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Did he ask you?" He asked, he was nearly bouncing on the bed.

"Yes" Isobel informed him purposefully using one word answers to wind him up.

It was working, Matthew's eyes were wide, "Did you say yes?"

"Yes" Isobel answered, her mouth sweeping upward in a grin.

"Can we go ride the horses?" He asked his tone full of cheek.

Isobel cocked her head to the side. Matthew's half-term would be coming soon. It would be a good opportunity for Matthew and herself to explore Downton.

"Yes." She delivered flatly her tone bored but it was betrayed by her eyes, they were dancing.

Matthew's smile was infectious but he couldn't resist a parting shot, "Can you say anything other than yes?"

He realized his mistake as soon as he said it but Isobel was quicker, "Yes."

When the morning came Richard and Isobel were free to hold hands in public and both reveled in it. Isobel had finally understood the depths of her loneliness now that she once again had someone to share her life with. In the light of day the issues which she had thought were insurmountable were actually not that. She could find work in Downton if she wished. Edward was also listed as Matthew's next of kin and still resided in Manchester so the school shouldn't have any problems. They set a date four months from now. Until that time they do as they had been doing, they would write, visit one another and live. Richard and Isobel did not make love at all during his visit. Instead they talked and they also talked with Matthew. They ate lunch before Richard had to catch the train back to Yorkshire.

When Matthew returned to school he kept secret the fact that his Mother would be remarrying. It wasn't shame that kept him quiet, he felt it was his Mother's business. He would tell Peter and Colin when the time was right. He was quite surprised when he received a letter from Clarkson. Mail was distributed at lunchtime and Matthew was surprised to hear the warden shout, "Crawley, Matthew! Letter!"

_Dear Matthew,_

_ I thought you would like to know that a local farmer here, Mr. Mason has kindly offered the use of his horses. All he asks in return is that we muck out the stalls when we are done. When you come make sure you pack some old clothes that your Mother won't cry over if you ruin them._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Richard Clarkson_

Matthew felt elated, while his Mother had said yes to the fact they could go this letter made it more real. It was tangible proof that it was actually going to happen. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Peter and Colin but he clamped his mouth shut.

Isobel did not wear her engagement ring on duty for fear of losing it. However, the moment she got home she placed in on her finger. Once again she had patrolling the high street on her lunch breaks this time searching for a wedding dress. They would be having a civil ceremony before a reception given by Edward. As she wandered she remembered a poem her mother told her

_Married in White, you have chosen right_

_Married in Grey, you will go far away,_

_Married in Black, you will wish yourself back,_

_Married in Red, you will wish yourself dead,_

_Married in Green, ashamed to be seen,_

_Married in Blue, you will always be true,_

_Married in Pearl, you will live in a whirl,_

_Married in Yellow, ashamed of your fellow,_

_Married in Brown, you will live in the town,_

_Married in Pink, your spirit will sink._

She had worn white when she had married Reginald, the color was fitting since she had chosen rightly and she had also been a virgin. She was also choosing rightly with Richard yet she felt white was not the best choice. She then remembered the color of the dress she had worn to the Ball-sky blue.

Dr. Miller was waiting for Dr. Clarkson in his office. He knew that the young doctor had something to tell him and he was betting on his hunch that Richard now had a woman. Daniel regarded Richard as he entered, the younger man had recently had his hair cut. With the wavy blonde locks cut back his blue eyes were more enigmatic and he seemed older more confident. Without saying a word Richard reached into one of the large pockets of his white coat and handed the older doctor an envelope. Daniel took it and Richard nodded in affirmation that he could open it. The last time he had been given paper it had been the golden list of names. Slipping a finger under the seal of the envelope Daniel opened it and pulled out a piece of thick cardstock, it was a wedding invitation.

Daniel read it carefully before standing and extending his hand, "Congratulations, my son."

While Daniel was definitely not his father it made Richard experience a twinge with pride. His own father had died shortly before he had graduated from medical school. Having Daniel's approval meant a great deal to him.

"Now not to put a damper on things but does she know what she's in for? Being a doctor's wife?" Daniel asked.

Richard chortled, "More than you will ever know."

With the knowledge that Clarkson was indeed off limits the nurses stayed a respectful distance away.

Half-term neared and Clarkson met Isobel and Matthew off of the train. Since his cottage was not in a state for himself let alone guests Matthew and Isobel would be staying at the Grantham Arms. Early the next morning Richard and Matthew went to Mason Farm where they approached the stables. Clarkson chose two horses and he and matthew began brushing them down. Richard expertly saddled them they two set off. Clarkson noted that Matthew could handle a walk, a trot well but his posture when it came to the canter was awkward.

Richard tugged on the reins of his colt and moved alongside Matthew's mare. "Don't squeeze your legs so much. Use your core."

"Core?" Matthew echoed.

Richard placed the reins in one hand while he used his other to reach out and point to Matthew's stomach. "Use the muscles here to sit up and keep you balance that way your bum won't be sore from squeezing."

Matthew followed the advice at first he felt as though he was going to fall off without squeezing his legs but with his stomach pulled tight he found balance. Richard could see it, "Good. Now lets get on with it."

Emitting a laugh Matthew began to follow Richard on a trail.

They rode for over an hour before returning. Matthew was up for more but Richard knew that if they rode for anymore length of the time the lad would not be able to walk in the morning. Besides they had a promise to keep. Richard had Matthew swap his riding boots for some wellingtons before following him into the stables. Clarkson directed matthew to get a wheelbarrow while he grabbed a pitchfork. The soiled bedding was piled into the wheelbarrow by Richard before being carted off by Matthew. With the stalls cleared both grabbed fresh bedding materials and filled the stalls.

Mr. Mason came into the stables, "Doctor" he greeted he looked at the stables, "Fine work, will you be wanting them again?"

"Yes, tomorrow. Also Mr. Mason what is the oldest gelding you have?" Richard asked.

While the two were riding Isobel was inside Clarkson's cottage, the first and last time she was here she was rather distracted and barely took note of it she remembered with a blush. It was spacious for a Cottage also there wasn't a lot of furnishings. There was his armchair a small table beside it, near to the kitchen a larger table, stairs led upstairs. There was his bedroom and another empty room. What did capture Isobel's attention was the books. One whole wall had couldn't be seen. Spines of all color jutted out for her attention. There were novels, medieval literature, books on philosophy, french poetry and even cookbooks. Not quite ready for a thought provoking intellectual argument Isobel grabbed a cookbook and sat in Richard's armchair and began flipping through the book.

As they walked back through the Village Matthew asked, "Why did you ask Mr. Mason about the gelding? Do I need a new mount?"

Shaking his head Richard spoke, "No, for your Mother. Geldings are a lot calmer, hopefully we can get her on him."

Matthew merely shrugged in a motion that shouted, "Good luck."

They returned to the Cottage to fetch Isobel. The rest of the day was spent around the village. Isobel got to get a good look at the place that she would eventually be calling home. That night they dined at the Grantham Arms along with Dr. Miller. Daniel finally got to meet the woman that captivated his younger counterpart and he could see the attraction between the two.

In the morning all of them went to Mason farm. Mr. Mason had all three horses out. Richard saw how Isobel's face tightened as she saw them. She tilted her chin up determined not put on a brave face. Mr. Mason pointed to a brown horse, "this here is Magnus."

Isobel tried to sound calm, "Oh, Magnus...they're not saddled."

"No we brush them down first then saddle them." Richard informed.

Isobel's puzzlement was clear and Mr. Mason stepped forward. "They like being brushed down." His nearness to magnus cause the horse to nuzzle him. Mason reached out and adjusted the horse's forelock.

"Where did you ride last?" Mason asked.

When isobel told him he snorted, "No wonder you look as if you're about to ride one of the four horses of the apocalypse."

Now it was Richard's turn to look puzzled. Mr. Mason carried on, "In the city they have his notion that only stallions should be used. They're great for a day at the race but just for a ride 'round you must be mad. A horse like Magnus, he'll trod through flames for you."

With that Matthew and Richard retrieved two brushes from the bucket while Mr. Mason led Isobel over to Magnus and showed her how to brush down the animal all the while telling her about the animals temperament.

Between Mason and Clarkson they chose a saddle for Isobel and got Magnus ready. Matthew was more confident in his canter. While Richard steadied his colt next to Magnus staying beside Isobel in a gentle trot. While she wasn't about to morph into a grand national jockey on her first ride it was a beginning. After half an hour she told Richard to go, she watched as he expertly dug in his heels and he raced away. Mr. Mason was right, Magnus just slowly trotted along not bothered by anything. She patted his neck, "I won't make you trod through flames."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the previous short chapters they didn't seem to mesh well as one big one (in my mind) hope this one soothes.**


	11. Chapter 11

With Richard's instruction and Magnus's seemingly infinite patience Isobel slowly became marginally more comfortable with horses. Matthew would be ready for his summer excursion to Colin's estate. It was a half day for Richard, he had taken the morning off to ride, he would be working at the hospital in the afternoon.

Richard took the time to clean his leather riding boots before placing them back into a chest he used for stowing his gear. He dressed and made his way to the Hospital, once inside he donned his white coat. Soon his thoughts of Isobel were banished by the thoughts of medicine. There were only a handful of patients but each one was a handful. The first was Trevor Linley, the older gentleman with the history of biliary colic. Once again his gallbladder was in spasm most likely around a gallstone. Clarkson had placed another bottle of bile acids next to his bed. Once again he told him how to take and when to take the medicine. Perhaps there was hope since Mr. Linley actually picked up the bottle to examine it, the first interest he had ever shown. The next patient was a young woman, she had been operated on earlier in the week for the removal of her appendix. Clarkson had seen her for she had been brought in by her Father with a complaint of stomach pain. Upon examination her right lower quadrant had been tender and he called for Miller. Both agreed that she should be operated upon. The organ had not ruptured and she had come tolerated the operation well. She was being observed before being sent home. One of the last patients was Mildred Linwood, she was in for her regular paracentesis, her liver had slowly been failing for months and every so often she was admitted so the excess fluid could be drained from her abdominal cavity. She was well beyond the age of bearing children however, the fluid build up made her look pregnant and made breathing difficult. Mildred had become a familiar presence around the hospital. All the nurses knew of her history of ascites and when she came in they would prepare all the necessary equipment.

First, Dr. Clarkson used a catheter and drained her bladder before the nurses helped arrange her on the bed so she was propped up on pillows. The elevation eased her breathing and was also beneficial for it encouraged the fluid to move down. Her stomach was swabbed with iodine and carefully Clarkson inserted a needle. The fluid began to drain off into a large vacuum jar and after a few minutes Mrs. Linwood was finally able to take a deep breath. Ten minutes later the procedure was over. She would be monitored for about an hour to make sure her blood pressure didn't drop too severely. Clarkson made his way back to her clipboard in hand, "Well Mrs. Linwood we shall see you in about three weeks?"

The old woman shook her head, "No Dr. Clarkson, I won't be back. While you, Dr. Miller and everyone else has been so kind here I'm done with my treatments. I've done everything I've needed, it's time."

Richard swallowed, during residency he had lost patients. People that could no longer fight off their illness or succumbed to their wounds. Mrs. Linwood would be his first patient that was going to stop life prolonging treatment and let nature take its course. "Will you let me give you some morphine, to take with you?"

Mrs. Linwood nodded and a tear escaped her eyes to roll down her cheek. In that moment they both knew that this might probably be their last conversation. Realizing that Richard threw the clipboard onto an empty bed and reached for her hand, gently taking her withered hand in his. "If it gets too much you come back here and we can help you."

While she had no strength to speak of she grasped his fingers. "I know that but I'll die at home. I'm ready, my husband died young, we had no children and I never remarried." She hummed before whispering, "Death, is not my foe."

"To my love I go." Dr. Clarkson finished for he knew the couplet. One of the many gifts of books had been a collection of poetry.

While he should get up and chart he didn't he sat with Mrs. Linwood talking. This was a skill he still needed to develop, talking with patients. It was something that you could never perfect. The hours you worked were demanding and some of the more "compassionate" work was left to the nurses. Was it because he was engaged to be married? Was that he felt a connection to this dying woman? Or was it that he was simply a human being seeing that another human being needed comfort. Whatever the reason he stayed longer than he needed.

When he did escape to his desk he found himself swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. This wouldn't be the last patient that he would shed tears for. Dr. Miller clicked open his pocket watch loudly, was ready to give a verbal lashing to Clarkson for they were behind on their patients. The door to the office was a jar and he could see the blonde bowed over his work. The way he was breathing let Miller know that he was upset and when his hand rose to wipe his eye he knew to leave him alone to compose himself. He tapped on the door instead, "Bed three, five minutes."

After all the patients had been seen Dr. Miller hauled Clarkson off to the pub.

"What can I get you Doctor?" The owner addressed Miller.

The older doctor smiled warmly at the owner as he clapped a hand on Richard's shoulder, "Nothing for me but a large whiskey for Doctor Clarkson here."

They sat at a table and Clarkson slowly sipped the amber liquid. Normally the smooth burn would relax his muscles but not today. It felt as every sip was turning him to stone.

"You have to let it go" Daniel began and Richard hung his head. A holdover move from when his own father would lecture him. The older man saw his gesture and ignored it continuing on, "It's not going to stop, there are going to be new diseases, worse things to see. You have to let it go. I know it's not taught in school, God knows. You have to find a way."

Richard's head shot up, "How?"

Miller shrugged, "Go ride more horses, take up painting, make mad love to that woman who wants you, remember that you're alive. We're trained in this profession to see the things that are wrong and that spills over into our personal life so much that we don't have a personal life. When you take off that white coat you need to be Richard." Daniel truly hoped he would and could grasp this concept. It had taken Daniel too long to understand that at the end of the day he was Daniel Miller not Dr. Miller. His personal life had suffered greatly for he hadn't learned until late how to separate the two.

Clarkson sighed, everything Miller was telling him was the truth, "I hear you." He affirmed as he took another sip of whiskey. There was no magic switch, all sorts of thoughts crossed through minds but it was up to us to decide how much attention we would give those thoughts. While it was difficult he forced himself not to think of Mrs. Linwood. Fortune seemed to be smiling on him for the bell above the door tinkled as it opened and in walked Isobel and Matthew.

They came over and joined Richard and Daniel at the table, and told them things they had discovered in Ripon. When Matthew expressed interest in darts Richard took him to the corner and they began a game while Isobel sat with Miller.

She could see from his posture that he was in a mood, "Eventful day?"

Miller heard the tone in her voice and felt safe talking with her, "A patient decided to end treatment today."

"How long?" Isobel asked.

Daniel understood her question, "I have her booked in for a home visit two weeks from now but if she was were gone sooner than that I wouldn't be shocked."

Isobel closed her eyes, understanding coursing through her. At her expression Miller spoke, "You're a nurse aren't you, in Manchester?"

"Yes, I work at St. Mary's. My father, brother and late husband were all doctors so I have a...familiarity of the moods that come with the profession." She answered.

Miller chuckled, "I say you do, I do have one question if you'll permit me."

Isobel nodded and Miller ran a hand through his hair before splaying his hands and placing them on the table. His whole body language was screaming that he was gathering courage to ask a monumental question. "I can see you love him, it's written on your face, but is there some comfort that he's a doctor? Familiarity...like you said?"

She smiled, he was the first person to actually have the conviction to ask the question which most had thought. "I'd be lying if I said No. I do take some comfort that I won't have to learn about a new profession when dining with colleagues." Both of them shared a laugh. "Did he tell you how we met?"

Daniel shook his head and Isobel chewed her lip, "Let's just say he rescued me from an ugly situation. In that moment I didn't care if he were a waiter, a doctor or a member of parliament. He fought for me not knowing who I was." She smiled in remembrance and echoed Richard's words, "It was all downhill from there."

Daniel swallowed, there weren't many men that he envied but right now his colleague and friend Richard Clarkson was one of them.

Matthew had picked up the game of darts fairly quickly and Richard had the inkling that when he returned to school he would be gaining quite a few lads' pocket money. He looked up to see Isobel staring at him and Daniel's words echoed in his head.

_make mad love to that woman who wants you_


	12. Chapter 12

Daniel pushed back in his chair and moved to the corner where the dart board was. From the chalkboard and Richard's face he could tell the boy was thrashing him. Matthew's face was schooled in concentration, the dart shot from his hand before landing in the narrow space below the twenty, tripling his score. "Christ" Daniel said.

"I was aiming for the middle" Matthew said with a sigh.

"I thought you were throwing the game!" Daniel whispered conspiratorially to Richard.

Waving with his hand Richard murmured, "No need, lad's a natural."

Daniel grabbed the darts from Richard's hand, "I used to be a good hustle in medical school."

At this Richard stared, he thought his boss would be beyond reproach. Daniel blew through his lips, "pfft, what? A chap has to eat."

"A new game Dr. Miller?" Matthew asked.

Miller nodded and went to wipe the chalkboard down. Richard moved back to the table where Isobel was waiting for him. "I think I'll stick to horseback riding." He said as he sank down into his chair.

Isobel was beaming, "It's good to see him interested in things like this. I'll admit I'm a woman and don't know where to steer him when it comes to sports and activities."

Richard smiled, "He's good, lets hope he doesn't learn three-card Monte."

At this Isobel gave Richard a puzzled face and he smiled and shook his head. Richard still had paperwork at the hospital so he kissed Isobel good night as she and Matthew went to their beds in the Grantham Arms.

The next morning Richard was eating a piece of toast when there was a knock at his door. He shoved the piece of toast between his teeth and went to answer his door. On his doorstep was Isobel, the piece of toast fell out of his mouth. "Where is Matthew?"

"At Mr. Mason's farm, he wanted to say goodbye to the horses. Mr. Mason is taking him on a tour of his land in his trap. I could have sat with them but I think I would have intruded somehow so I decided to come here and see you...do you mind?" Isobel asked gesturing to the door.

Suddenly realizing that he was leaving her on his doorstep he opened the door wider and ushered her inside. During this visit they hadn't been alone but this trip was not for them it was for Matthew. He suddenly felt nervous, as if he were a teenager being alone in a girls room with her father next door. He laughed at his thought and Isobel murmured, "what is it?"

When he told her off his thoughts she smiled, "Yes, it does feel like that."

Calmly she picked up the toast from the floor before striding into this kitchen to toss it into the bin. She then sat at his neglected kitchen table. He rarely used it, generally he ate over his sink or in his armchair. Already Isobel was turning the cottage into a home. He pulled out the other chair and sat beside her.

"Will you be seeing your patient?"

"Which one?" He asked in a confused tone.

"The one who no longer wants treatment."

His eyes widened and Isobel merely said, "Daniel told me."

At this Richard rolled his eyes and Isobel couldn't help but smirk inwardly. He was so expressive in this action, his whole body seemed to roll with his eyes. "She's not my patient anymore but yes I will be seeing her. 'Death is not my foe'."

Her eyes narrowed at his last statement trying to discern the quotation.

In a calm voice he delivered the couplet, "Death, is not my foe. To my love I go."

"I don't recognize it" Isobel said shaking her head.

Richard lightly drummed his fingers on the table before speaking, "Old Scottish poem about a woman who rejected her true love. He died in battle and she mourned him for the rest of her life. She mourned for over fifty years before she died. Apparently she wrote about her great love but it was not known why she rejected him. She could have been happy. Instead she carried on for all that time alone."

Isobel swallowed for his voice had turned gravelly almost deeper as he spoke about the poets life. She didn't want to think about mourning or about missed moments. She laid out her hand palm up on the table and slid it towards him. He reached for it and they connected. They both knew that they would go upstairs. They both knew that they would lay in his small bed with the light blue sheets. That they would touch one another as only lovers would. It would not be the mad coupling that Daniel spoke of to feel alive. It would be the tender ministrations of two people affirming their love for one another with the covenant of flesh.

The noise the chair made as it scraped along the floor seemed unusually loud as Richard moved to stand. His hand tugged on Isobel's gently and she stood also. Nothing was said as they negotiated the stairs together, their footfalls echoing in time. Isobel smiled as they came into the bedroom. Reginald had never made a bed in his life, for he never had to learn. Seeing Richard's bed neat and squared away made her ache for she wanted to do this for him. She could picture in her minds eye him rolling out of bed in the morning alone to rise, then tucking in the sheets, pulling up the comforter making sure everything was straight before coming back to the bed at night alone. She thought back to the poem and felt a pang of sorrow. Imagine being so lonely that the thought of death was a comfort. She turned and flung herself at him, her lips meeting his and his arms wound around her.

He tasted her lips slowly, wanting to savor each second with her for he knew it would be some time before they could be like this again. It might even be their wedding night when they would be able to touch one another again. In their previous encounters clothes were flung to the ground. Now it was taken off methodically and either hung up or folded.

They sat together on the bed, neither one pushing the other down. It was almost a test of wills seeing which one would break first. Isobel turned herself more fully into his embrace yet both were still upright. Richard moved back on the bed, so his back was against the headboard. Isobel moved with him. She sat astride him yet with him so close to the headboard she had to wrap her legs around his waist. In this position neither of them had leverage so both of them had to work together to gain any friction, to gain any pleasure.

Isobel's hands glided over his shoulders and sides, he was pleasingly broad shouldered and his skin was warm. His arms flexed and it was obvious that he had been used to hard work. This was another change from Reginald. The city life versus a country life but more than that a life with money versus a one with little.

She had meant what she said to Daniel last night in the pub, that she wouldn't have or didn't care what Richard's profession was. The way he held her now, the way he made her feel she wouldn't have cared if he were in service or a Lord. His hips rolled beneath her and she sighed. Her lips kissed his neck and it was his turn to sigh. Their motion remained slow, gently rocking against one another with no frenzied pace, no rush. However, with all things it was not to last. Isobel's hand pushed down on Richard's shoulders trying to gain leverage while Richard's own hands clamped on her hips to aid her. His thighs tensed beneath her while her own squeezed around his waist. She inhaled sharply and Richard's grip tightened on her hips their motion suddenly stopping.

The three of them were on the platform, Richard and the porter had stowed their luggage. Isobel did not want to leave. These past few days had given her a glimpse of the life that she would soon have and she felt the remaining time until their wedding was too long. While their encounter had been one of the most tender couplings she had ever had her legs still carried an ache. Matthew noticed her wince as she went to climb into the train car. "Shouldn't squeeze your legs so hard."

"Pardon me?" Isobel asked.

"In the saddle, Dr. Clarkson taught me that." Matthew said off hand and his scrambled into the passenger car. Richard's lips twitched he was trying so very hard not to laugh. The signalmen waved red and the train pulled away.

It took two days for Richard to be able to visit Mrs. Linwood. Her stomach was already beginning to swell again from the fluid and she had trouble walking. "Dr. Clarkson" she said weakly.

"No, it's Richard. I'm not here as your doctor."

"I'm afraid I can't entertain." She said and chuckled.

Richard withdrew a flask and poured some amber liquid into an empty teacup. Normally anyone in liver failure shouldn't be given alcohol but she had earned it. She took the cup and inhaled the aroma before smiling. He simply raised the flask and took a sip as they drank together. In the hour that he spent with her she pointed to pictures and objects in her home. Telling him of their significance. Before he left he checked her vial of morphine, there was still a dose left if she needed it and he told her that he would bring more.

The next evening he went to Mrs. Linwood's home, she had left a key with her neighbor. He retrieved it and went inside. He called her name and heard no answer, moving to her bedroom he saw her form in bed and knew she was dead. Still he went in and check for a pulse and found none. Next to her bed was the vial morphine still a quarter full. By it was a note.

_To my love I go_

Richard couldn't sleep that night and he wrote to Isobel instead.

_Dearest Isobel,_

_ My friend died earlier today. She is at peace at least that's what I believe. Whether or not she has been reunited with her husband is not for me to know what I do know is that her pain is finally gone. I'm going to ride once a week, I'm going to make the time for it. Being a doctor is my purpose but it's not my life. You are my life, each day brings us closer to being married. While it will bring challenges, I would be a fool to say it won't, I look forward to them for we will experience them together. This letter is probably a warbling mess of scribble written by a lonely man who is currently half drunk. Just know I am thinking of you, Mr. Mason sends his best to you and Matthew as do I._

_Love,_

_ Richard_

In the village Mr. Mason had seemed to have grown three inches. He had received a letter from Mrs. Crawley thanking him for the loan of Magnus. However, it was the letter from Matthew that had him smiling. The youngman had expressed his thanks and his awe at the land Mr. Mason owned. In the days following Mrs. Linwood's cottage was cleared, the village had come out to help. Mildred had made a detailed list of what she owned and where she wished it to go. Her clothes would go to the church barrel, her furniture was to be split among her neighbors, books to the local school and so on. One afternoon a villager delivered a box to the hospital, it was for Dr. Clarkson. Inside the box was a pocket watch and chain more ornate and intricate than he could ever afford. He knew it was from Mrs. Linwood. The metal warmed in his hand before he made the decision to thread the chain through his buttonhole and deposit the watch in his pocket.


	13. Chapter 13

Richard was thankful he was a man, for Isobel was taking care of the wedding arrangements. All he had to do was show up. Daniel had assuaged his fears over leaving the hospital, Richard had no clue what terrible secret the held over the nurses but they too were pulling together. Either in good natured altruism or because Daniel had threatened them with something.

After many nights mulling it over Isobel decided to take Richard's name. She had joked in one of her letters

_Crawley to Clarkson, still the letter C won't have to change my monogrammed handkerchief._

Richard had laughed when he had read that sentence but it still gave him pleasure to know that she would carry his name. Now Matthew would be Mr. Crawley.

Edward Turnbull had reserved a small ballroom at a hotel for a reception. Arrangements had been made for Richard's sisters Rebecca and Margot to travel and stay in Manchester. Everything was ready. Friday the 10th of April 1896 two people exchanged vows, Isobel Turnbull Crawley became Isobel Clarkson. Richard Douglas Clarkson now had a wife.

He had smiled broadly when he had seen his bride for she was wearing the same color he had first saw her in-sky blue. He had worn grey, a choice made by Gladys in the village. After the ceremony Isobel gave him a small box. Inside was a signet ring, "I know that men don't wear wedding bands like women do but I wanted give you something to show you're taken."

Richard took the ring from the box and examined it, it was made of gold with reddish stone in the center. The letter C had been engraved in the stone and on either side of the stone the letters I and R were scripted in gold. It was simple yet elegant. He slipped the ring onto the smallest finger on his left hand.

Isobel was amazed at the similarity between Richard and his sisters. All had the same blonde hair and blue eyes, it was stunning to see the family resemblance between them all. Edward and herself looked nothing alike, if anything Edward looked like their father and she her mother. There was no blend.

All of them sat round a table and spoke of their lives and what they wished for in the future. It would only be a few years before the new century turned. The hours passed before Margot stood and Richard regarded his sister, "What is it?"

"It's late, I'm tired." His sister lilted softly and Rebecca rose as well.

Richard pulled his pocket watch out, "Not that late."

Margot leaned down beside her brother and whispered in a tone that was blatantly not private, "Can't you think of something better to do on your wedding night?"

He blushed and Edward snorted into his wine covering his laugh. Isobel herself was blushing, it had been months since they had been with one another. Many a night as she lay her bed in Manchester holding the pillow with his pillowcase on it wishing it was him. Now she was free to touch him and she found that she almost couldn't. Edward and Sarah found Matthew and took him up to their room where he would be staying.

The room emptied and Richard and Isobel made their way to their own room. Once inside Richard kissed Isobel chastely keeping his hands on her waist almost obscenely polite. Isobel knew what he was feeling for she was feeling the same thing. Why did it feel different? It's not like this even hadn't occurred before. Why did some words, a ring and signing a piece of paper make everything different.

Richard voice was low, "What should we do?"

"I don't know" Isobel answered,

"Do you want to go to bed?" Richard asked seductively

"Yes" She replied

"Do you want to go slow?" He asked again his tone turning gravelly.

"I'm not sure" Isobel said shakily.

Going out on a very big limb Richard asked, "Do you need shagging?"

It was a dirty word and it described the feeling that she had. While most wedding nights were filled with hesitant shy touches they were beyond that. She wanted to be taken and she knew he could, "God yes!"

At her exclamation richard grinned manically, before diving into to kiss her. It was sloppy, teeth clacked together and it was perfect. Clothes were shucked and tossed to the ground, leaving them only adorned with gold bands. The hard wall of his chest met the softness of hers and she cried out. The sound went straight to his groin and while his body screamed to Take, take, take he still had some brain power left to devote to Isobel. His hand wandered down and he moaned at the feeling of her, she was ready.

She whispered, "I've been like this all day, knowing I could be with you."

He growled at her and she smiled wickedly. Her had reached out to touch his chest before trailing her fingers down. His muscles had become more defined from his time with the horses. Strong arms from cleaning stables and lugging saddles. Taut stomach from using it balance on his mount. Her hand moved lower still and she watched as his head snapped back and his breath left his lungs in soft pants. Never had she been so bold and she felt a thrill at the power she had over him. There were no restrictions now, none. Richard pushed her and the bed seemed to rush up to meet Isobel as she fell back on it.

Legs tangled and Isobel sighed in satisfaction as his hips nestled against hers. They moved together in a frantic rush. Consummation: the point at which something is complete or finalized. Her mind laughed at the definition. This was affirmation a declaration of the truth. She loved the man above her and he loved her and this was their proof. Her thoughts fled completely when his circled his hips. It had been too long for both of them and soon they both cried out. Heavy breaths filled the room, Richard gathered Isobel to him holding her tightly. They could stay together all night, and the night after that. The talked about what they could remember about the wedding ceremony. Each other filling the other in on what they had forgotten or missed. Later Isobel turned towards her husband and winced. Richard saw it and reached for her, "Sore?" Richard asked tenderly as his hand glided down her thigh to her calf stopping occasionally to push his fingertips into her flesh to alleviate the ache.

Isobel moaned as Richard fingers banished the ache.

Smiling down at her Richard shifted so he was sitting between her leg and gently grabbed one of of them and began massaging it starting from her ankle moving up to her calf finally to her thigh. When he reached and finished with her thigh he placed one hand behind her knee and the other on her ankle gently pushed down. The same attention was given to her other leg and when he was done he arranged himself again. This time when they came together it was slow and unhurried. Richard's pace was slow and he forced himself to take measured breaths through his nose, not letting himself get carried away. This time when they came it was not the forceful rippling instead it felt as though a warm blanket had been flung over them.

Isobel's influence was soon all over the Cottage and Richard found he loved it. The spare bedroom had been converted for Matthew's use. He was excelling at Manchester Grammar and Edward and Sarah hosted him on the weekends when he didn't wish to travel to Yorkshire. Peter and Colin were properly impressed by his riding skills during the week at Colin's estate.

"How did you get so good any road?" Peter asked.

Matthew shrugged nonchalantly but he had been saving this moment, "Stepfather taught me."

Both boys then began peppering him with questions.

Isobel cloistered herself with Dr. Miller for over an hour. She expressed her desire to work as a nurse but was adamant about not receiving special treatment for being Clarkson's wife. Miller understood and had Isobel assigned to his service while he was on duty. The village accepted her and she even exchanged a few words with Lord Grantham while he was on a walk. The fact that she was once Mrs. Crawley was not recognized by the village until nearly twenty years later.

On their 16th wedding anniversary the largest luxury liner departed from Southampton. With its launch and subsequent sinking would bring change to all.

Matthew Crawley was in the library speaking with Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham. He had come as soon as he could when the letter had been sent. He was confused and intrigued by the summons. Over tea he learned of the heir dying on the Titanic and how subsequent research had discovered that he was a descendant of the family and now the future heir.

The Earl was still speaking, "yes the researchers had a devil of time finding you. Your father Reginald Crawley married Isobel Turnbull, your mother obviously and had produced you. We found the death certificate for you father...very sorry. Your mother is still alive?"

Matthew's eyes widened and he shot a look at the Lord and Lady, "Um, yes she's alive in fact she lives here. I thought that's how you found me."

Cora shook her head at her husband signaling that she didn't have a clue,"Did she go back to her maiden name?" Cora asked.

Matthew expelled a breath, "No she remarried sixteen years ago, she's Mrs. Richard Clarkson."

Cora and Robert were stunned, both couldn't believe it. "Dr. Clarkson!" both exclaimed.

Gossip traveled fast amongst the servants, they knew about the sinking and the probable death of Patrick Crawley. They also knew that the replacement had been found.

O'Brien was on a tear, she was oblivious to the footfalls behind her and the fact that they belonged to the Lady of the House.

"And if anyone thinks I'm going to pull my forelock and curtsy to this Mr Nobody from Nowhere-"

Cora hadn't been seen and she felt anger rise in her, "Were you discussing Mr Crawley?"

Her presence caused a sea of bodies to rise in a wave.

"Yes, milady." O'Brien said confidently.

"Is it your place to do so?" Cora all but spat.

"I've got my opinions, milady, same as anybody."

Cora bristled, "What do you know of Mr. Crawley?

O'Brien's face was defiant. So Cora turned to Carson and Mrs. Hughes, "Carson, Dr. Clarkson will be coming tonight I wondered if you could add a space for him.

Carson was confused, "Here in the servants hall?"

Cora smiled sadly, over the years that Dr. Clarkson had served the village he had dined from time to time at the Abbey. Sometimes in the formal dining room however, mostly he was given a sandwich or something else Mrs. Patmore had on hand when he came to treat one of the family or member of staff _That is going to change! Time for the big gun_. "No in the dining room. Dr. Clarkson is Mr. Crawley's stepfather he is married to Mr. Crawley's mother. He and his wife will be joining Mr. Crawley at our table. I do hope the respect you give the Doctor will transfer to his stepson?"

The servants had gone unusually quiet, they had good source of information with all the gossip passed amongst them but they had no clue that future heir of Grantham had had ties in Downton for years.

* * *

**A/N: Not sure whether to end it here or continue.**


	14. Chapter 14

Richard Clarkson snarled as he put on his finery, he hadn't felt this annoyed since he before he had met Isobel. It wasn't the Physician's Ball but it was bad enough. Dinner at the Abbey, more like a demand. There had been whispers in the Village about the death of the future heir of Grantham. Beyond all odds another had been found and it happened to be Matthew.

Tonight would be an inspection. Isobel had never been inside the Abbey, she attended a few garden parties with Richard but never a formal dinner. As Richard was securing his cufflinks he noticed that Isobel was having trouble securing her necklace. He came up behind her and took the clasp from her hands. She regarded him in the mirror as he made quick work of the clasp.

"Will it be as bad as you think?" She asked.

Richard sighed and remembered that this would be the first time in a long time that they had attended something so grand and he didn't want to spoil it for her, "Probably not, but you have to admit it's strange."

At this Isobel matched his sigh. They heard the door rattle down stairs, "Mother, Richard a car is here."

They descended the stairs and the three of them exited the Cottage to travel to the Abbey.

As they walked through Carson announced them, "Doctor Clarkson, Mrs. Clarkson and Mr. Crawley."

They passed a row of servants then saw a line of "family" Isobel knew who they were since she had seen them in village and in her mind this gave her an edge. She knew about them, she had even been present to treat some of their injuries in the hospital. However, they probably didn't remember her.

They were directed to the table and sat down, as the footman neared it was obvious that Cora's words in the servant's hall had fallen on deaf ears. Thomas had all but insinuated that Matthew had no clue as to feed himself.

"So you're a nurse?" Cora asked trying to diffuse the situation.

"Yes, I've been a nurse for about twenty years." Isobel answered before reaching for her wine.

"Didn't go into the family business, Matthew?" Robert joked slightly.

"No, I prefer the Law to medicine." He answered.

"Where did you study?" Mary asked in a bored tone.

"Oxford" Matthew copied in a equally bored tone, two could play at that game.

Richard fiddled with his knife, his hands automatically adopted the grip he had with a scalpel, perhaps it was his subconscious trying to excise a way out of this dinner.

Cora could see the tension brewing between her eldest daughter and Matthew. "I've been doing a lot of thinking since this whole incident started. Of when we first met Dr. Clarkson.'

Matthew's head shot up in genuine interest and Cora continued, "He delivered Sybil. Came here on his bicycle in the middle of the night."

Both Robert and Cora smiled at the memory. Robert's face contorted, "Yes, Dr. Miller was supposed to come."

Richard and Isobel became quiet, Dr. Daniel Miller had died five years ago.

"Good dart player." Matthew mumbled and Richard shot his stepson a grateful look. Those around the table could see the affection the three of them had for one another along with a good helping of respect.

Mary had the good sense not to goad Matthew any further. With dinner over they went to the library. Richard's neck was stiff, he had had a full day at the clinic when the news came that he was to be at the Abbey. He was hoping for a good long soak to ease his muscles. Instead he had washed hurriedly before changing. He rolled his head on his shoulders and sighed. With the talk of Daniel he let his thoughts wander to the past.

* * *

**1899**

Richard had kept his promise to himself to ride, Mr. Mason was more than happy to let Richard borrow his horses. Never had he been happier, his wife had finally bore a child that had lived beyond the life of his siblings. William his name was and was the jewel of Mason Farm. Once in a while Isobel would ride with him but it was rare. She was no longer afraid of horses but her enjoyment of the activity was not on par with Richard's she prefered to garden. Matthew had become extremely proficient at horse riding and would ride with Richards on the weekends he spent in Yorkshire. He had grown several inches and was drawing close to Richard's own height.

When Richard and Matthew came back to the house both found Isobel sitting in an armchair staring into space.

"Mother?" Matthew asked.

She looked up and saw her two men and tried to smile but both saw through it. She pointed to a letter that had been delivered. Richard followed the line from her finger and found the letter, it was an official letter from the government. He knew what was.

Once again disagreement between the British Empire and The South African Republics had flared. Another war was being fought and men were needed. Richard opened the letter, it was as he suspected. He had been called for by the Royal Army Medical Corps, he would be a commissioned officer.

"I have to talk to Daniel" He said softly before pulling Matthew aside, "Keep her here."

Matthew nodded before Richard left for the hospital. Dr. Miller was tired, his retirement couldn't come soon enough. He heard footfalls and saw Clarkson, his appearance was confusing until he noted that he was still in his riding clothes. He held out the letter and Daniel took it.

Miller had been spared conscription due to his age, he had tried to get Clarkson out of it. He told the Board of Army surgeons that he was needed in Downton that people of the Village would suffer if left with one doctor. They hadn't agreed.

Weeks later Captain Richard Clarkson found himself on a boat heading for a Cape Town. He spent most of the voyage topside trying to not vomit every waking minute. With the sighting of land his stomach seemed declare a truce. He and the rest of the ship's passengers disembarked. They would be traveling north, horses had been secured for them. Richard's first impressions of South Africa was the heat, the sun was blinding and the heat seemed to be a tangible force knocking him back. They rode for three days before arriving at the medical encampment. There were two large canvas tents, one was the hospital the other was lined with cots, it was to be the sleeping quarters for the medical personnel.

There was enough time to throw his bag on an empty cot before he was called for. He shucked off his uniform tunic and rolled up his sleeves. He followed another officer and was led to the hospital. Many of the soldiers had bullet wounds. It didn't take long for Richard to recognize a dum-dum wound. Both armies were using the softened lead bullets which would expand on impact. Large gaping wounds and broken bones were the main injuries. Battalion doctors had packed and stabilized the wounds as best they could in the field before the injured were transported. However, amputation was performed almost daily. Adding to the workload was the spread of Typhoid Fever among the wounded.

Night after night Richard would collapse onto his cot sleeping when he could only to be woken with the next wave of patients. Letters during this time were sporadic. He could go a whole month without receiving anything. Then the next month a brick of envelopes would be tossed at him. It pleased him that Isobel was writing to him, telling him of the goings on in Downton. Once in a while he would also receive a letter from Matthew. He kept them all wrapped in a spare pillowcase in his footlocker.

In Downton Isobel was focused on nursing, she had thrown herself into her work. Dr. Miller was grateful to her and all his staff. He recognized that Isobel needed to keep busy to stop her thoughts from straying to dark places. The truth was that Daniel was overworked. His shoulders seemed to carry a constant ache and his head always seemed to pound. One morning the pounding was too much and he cried out.

"Captain Clarkson!" a man bellowed, "Grab your gear you're heading out."

Not one to question orders Richard grabbed his items before meeting up with his summoner. The Colonel merely handed him a piece of paper.

His eyes scanned it before he shouted, "Damn it!"

* * *

A/N: Continuing


	15. Chapter 15

A stroke, Daniel had suffered a stroke and he was still three days away from a launch that would bring him back to Britain. He wouldn't know until he reached a British port if Daniel would live. His dread won out over his sea sickness he didn't know which was worse having a knot in his stomach or constantly throwing up. The port at Liverpool finally came into focus, he disembarked and boarded a train, he was still in uniform and he ignored people's stares. Finally he came to Yorkshire and Downton was near. Finally the train stopped and he leaped out claiming his bag and rushing to the hospital. He found Isobel next to a bed with Daniel bundled in it. Richard's eyes took in his friends image. There was a slight downturn of his mouth on the left side, also his left hand was curled loosely into a fist. Richard's throat closed and he found he couldn't speak. Daniels head tilted up, "you brown." Richard bit the inside of his cheek at the slow and slightly slurred speech, more evidence of the strokes damage.

"Very hot in Africa, you wouldn't believe the sun. " he began and he noted that Daniel's eyes were begging him to continue. Richard threw off his uniform tunic and sat down beside Daniel's bed. He began telling him a redacted version of Africa, leaving out the blood and shit he had waded through. During this time Richard assessed his friend. Daniel could stand and walk with a cane. His left hand had some grip it was his speech that was the worst. Richard could see the frustration on Daniel's face his faculties were intact but the man wasn't able to put his thoughts into words. Several times during a conversation he watched as Daniel's hand came up to his head and made a motion as if he could physically pull his thoughts out and show them to Richard.

Daniel ended the conversation with two words, "Boss, now." He said augmenting his statement with a pointed finger at Richard. Daniel was then bundled back into this bed and Richard found himself in the office. His desk was against the wall while Daniel's was still in the center. Files were stacked neatly on the right side with an inkwell and pen on the left. Only two papers were scattered on the desktop as if to mark the time when Daniel's stroke hit. Richard found himself shaking, he had just come from a war zone where men lay dying or maimed to come home to see his friend decimated by a stroke.

He felt arms around him, he looked down and recognized Isobel's wedding band. Seeing and feeling his wife's hands after a year of being apart drove home the fact that this was real and not a dream. His shaking stopped, his hands covered hers and he gently pried them off. "I should review the notes on the cases, get up to speed."

Isobel frowned, but turned and left to leave. This was not the reunion she had envisioned but knew that this was not what he had envisioned either. He would need time to readjust to this new life. Richard numbly moved to Daniel's desk and sat down feeling like an intruder and began picking through the files. He worked well after sundown his body still on the time of South Africa.

He was now head of Downton Cottage Hospital but this was not how he wanted to come to the position. He had imagined that Daniel would exit gracefully, retiring to his Cottage in the village. now he would be relegated to the Cottage shut up like a hermit. He must have passed out at the desk. When he awoke to someone shaking his shoulder.

"Dr. Clarkson?"

He didn't recognize the voice, when he opened his eyes he saw a well dressed man-Lord Grantham.

"Sorry M'Lord" Clarkson murmured.

Robert saw that Dr. Clarkson was still in his travel stained uniform, His blonde hair seemed almost white next to his tanned skin. Robert would be traveling to Africa soon to serve, would he too return as haunted as the doctor?

Grantham sighed, "No it is I who am sorry. I'm sorry that the same organization that rounded you up is the same one that sank Dr. Miller into this mess."

Richard pushed a hand between his uniform shirt to rub his neck, "A mess, it is that."

The Earl of Grantham had his hands out in offering, "What will Dr. Miller need?"

Inhaling deeply Clarkson spoke, "Therapy, daily nursing support at first until he can cope which I think he will be able to. His career is finished. It is highly unlikely that he will regain the dexterity in his left hand that coupled with his speech...like you said it's a mess."

"Whatever we can provide you only need ask, I mean that." The Lord delivered.

Clarkson nodded and Grantham rose before he turned he cleared his throat, "I'm leaving in a fortnight for Cape Town. Anything you can tell me?"

Richard thought of the men he treated with hapless wounds those with no wounds that died of fever in agonizing pain. Grantham was shocked to see the haunted look in Clarkson's eyes replaced with steely determination as he delivered, "Aim true and put your man down."

* * *

**A/N: Please forgive the shortness**


	16. Chapter 16

Lord Grantham left the hospital in a contemplative mood. He wasn't stupid he knew he was going to war but seeing Dr. Clarkson, hearing his words it finally struck him that it was going to be vastly different from whatever he could imagine. It was still early and he needed to wash, shave and change.

He stepped into his cottage feeling like an interloper, he made his way to the bedroom. He noted that his pocket-watch, the one Mrs. Linwood had given him, was on Isobel's table. No doubt his wife had been winding it, polishing it, caring for it. His hand reached out to touch it but he stopped

_Death is not my foe_

"Isobel" he whispered before pressing his fist into his mouth. He had come home and he hadn't even kissed her.

"Richard?" It was her voice behind him. He turned and saw her, rather she saw him. He looked scared, like a child that had just woken from a bad dream not knowing what was real. Perhaps he had?

He crossed the floor towards her and sank to his knees before her wrapping his arms around her. His posture begging forgiveness, she ran a hand through his hair giving him the absolution he needed. She noted that his scalp was greasy but she didn't care. He was home and that was all she cared about.

"Come with me" She whispered and he rose at her command. She led him to the bathroom. She sat him on a stool while she ran him a bath. She stripped him of his uniform taking the time to fold the pieces before she would wash them. As he stepped into the bath his eyes closed in pleasure, it had been a long time since he had had a proper bath. Isobel noted that a good portion of his body held a pleasing tan. Generally his hygiene consisted of bucket of warm water and bar of soap in a field. The ship's facilities hadn't been much better.

"Close your eyes" She told him and he did. She had filled a jug with warm water and began washing his hair. He moaned in contentment as her fingers massaged the lather into his scalp. The jug was filled again and his blonde locks were rinsed clean. She held a small mirror and handed him a razor. When he was finally finished both were amazed at the amount of dirt that had come off of him.

"I wash, I swear!" He announced and she laughed. Seeing her smile broke something in him and he stood up. His hands threaded into her hair and she felt the dampness of his fingers against her scalp. It was time to rectify his former oversight, he leaned forward and kissed her. It had been a long time for both of them, noses bumped and she giggled and he expelled a laughing breath for it was if they had started all over. The fact that he was nude and dripping wet and that she was clothed seemed to be forgotten. The kiss quickly turned carnal and Richard grabbed her shoulders and stepped out of the bathtub. His feet squeaked on the floor as he pushed Isobel out of the bathroom. She helped him by shedding her clothes, while his were dirty and folded hers were clean and flung on the floor.

In between kisses they spoke, "Missed you" he rasped.

"and I you" she countered.

The feeling of her skin against his gave him a rush and his head swam with it. He knew he wouldn't be able to last once he touched her. His hand wandered down her flank and she batted it away. His face conveyed his dismay of not being able to please her. She kissed him quick, "just be with me."

"It's been so long Isobel, I want it to be good, I won't-"

She cut him off with another kiss and purposefully fell backward while clinging onto him bringing him with her. The bed absorbed the most of the shock of the impact as they fell. He nuzzled her neck and took a lungful of air trying to gather what was left of his control. Seeing he was distracted she rolled them over so he was on his back. Before he could protest she had taken him in hand and sank down.

The heat of Africa was nothing compared to the heat of her body. He sobbed as she moved, for he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this happy. Thirteen months he had been in Africa, thirteen months of literal blood, sweat and tears. He was home now, in every sense of its meaning, he was with her. Isobel's body was touching his in a way only a woman's could and his fingers dug into her hips to grind her against him more fully. His thumb sought her center and again she batted it away, "For you" she told him.

She meant what she said, this coupling was for him. Besides it wasn't as if she wasn't enjoying it. The feeling of him within her made her feel light, his hands on her hips made her feel wanted and the words tumbling from his lips made her feel loved.

She watched as his eyes screwed shut before he let out a howl and pulled her even closer to him. Warmth bathed her from the inside and she sighed in contentment. His grip began to relax and while she knew that while this encounter was not a magic panacea it was a start. She needed to let him know that he was safe. Wars change everyone, not just those who serve on the front lines but _everyone_.

Richard willed himself to stay in this moment, to be fully engaged with his wife. However, as the minutes passed life began creeping into his mind. He had patients to see and Daniel to think of. Not wanting to return to reality yet he gently fisted Isobel's hair and pulled her down for another kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

His thoughts of the past were broken with the offering of coffee which Richard accepted. He found himself standing behind his wife as she sat on a small sofa with Matthew sitting beside her. Lord Grantham saw the defensive posture Dr. Clarkson had adopted, he held his arms stiff and away as he held his cup and saucer. His eyes were moving no doubt he had memorized where the exits were. He couldn't blame the man, for he, his wife and stepson had been ambushed into this situation. Ambushed was how he and Cora felt. Patrick should never had been on the _Titanic_, he should have married Mary produced and heir and everything would have continued on normally. Instead he had died, either having drowned or frozen to death. Now his eldest daughter indeed all his daughters were caught in the limbo of the class system for just having been born a girl.

Cora had told him of the whispers in the servants hall over Matthew and he knew his own daughters were not above poking fun at him as well. The way Mary had acted over dinner. The Clarkson's had handled it well. Robert had seen the doctor's grip change on his silverware moving his fingers up to curl around the top of the edge of the knife. Mrs. Clarkson had her own nervous habit-she used her thumb and littlest finger on her left hand to spin her wedding band. They were polite and answered all questions put to them but they were far from comfortable.

Robert came over to the three, "if you would like would you care to picnic with us Saturday?"

Mary was near her Father, "Yes but the picnic would be near the Longview side Papa, are you able to ride Mr. Crawley or would you need a car?"

Matthew bit the inside of cheek to keep from smiling, "I'm quite capable of riding. My stepfather here made sure I became proficient." He said with smile to Mary before raising his cup in salute to Richard.

Isobel spoke next, "For years Mr. Mason has graciously loaned us the use of his horses for us to ride."

Robert's attention perked up and he began a conversation with Isobel about William Mason. Finally they had some common ground to rush to.

Richard moved away from the sofa so Isobel and Robert could talk. Mary had slunk off towards her sisters. Nearly done with his coffee Richard subconsciously began spinning the cup in the saucer. In an instant Carson was there to take it away from him.

"May I take that Doctor?" The butler asked with a hint of disdain.

"Yes, please forgive my rudeness with the porcelain." The doctor said with regret.

Carson softened, he hadn't meant to be harsh. He had no quarrel with the doctor and anyone could see that this whole situation was awkward. Soon it was over and the three were driven back to the Cottage.

Matthew took his old room while Isobel and Richard retired to theirs. What the three didn't know was this was being discussed at the Abbey.

Robert pulled down the covers on his wife's bed, kicked off his slippers and got beneath the covers. Beside him his wife did the same, "Do you think it's a bit early to invite them out?" Cora asked anxiously.

Robert shook his head, "No, besides things have to be discussed. They'll be moving into Crawley house for one."

Cora frowned, "Matthew yes but I don't think Dr. Clarkson and Mrs. Clarkson will be."

At this Robert frowned, "If this is your American upbringing may I remind you Matthew is the future heir to this estate. Crawley house is where they will go"

Cora tilted her eyes up and her chin down in a look she reserved for her girls when they were younger and misbehaving. "Yes, Matthew is the heir. However, his Mother and Dr. Clarkson have been quite happy in their _home_ here in Downton. Forcing them to move to Crawley house might be a bit much, you should at least _ask_ them first."

The days leading up to the picnic were more tense for the those in the Abbey. Worries over which finger sandwiches to serve coupled with the sudden scrutinizing over harnesses had the household in a tizzy.

Isobel and Richard went back to their work at the hospital. There was plenty for them to do, just because a family member was now the future heir did not stop infections or other nastiness from happening. At the Dowager Countesses urging, more like subtle demand, Cora had decided to drop by the hospital for a visit. She had gone to the Cottage first but no one answered her hail. Mentally kicking herself she went to the hospital. As she stepped inside she saw the beds freshly made, some were occupied some not. Nurses were moving to and fro in grey uniform and flowing white head coverings. Cora's eyes were caught by a flash of deep blue it was Isobel. One of her hands was on the patients wrist while her other went to her chest where she checked her watch. After she had checked the time her hand reached out and in an instant Dr. Clarkson seemed to materialize to hand over his stethoscope before moving off. Cora hadn't been seen yet and while it would irk her mother-in-law she was going to stick to her guns and leave.

Friday morning it was Isobel's who was attacked with nerves. She had only felt comfortable on Mr. Mason's horses. Terror coursed through her, what would she be given? Would she insult Lord and Lady Grantham by asking for another mount? Would her actions be harmful to Matthew or Richard in someway?

It was still very early in the morning and she held still with her eyes shut trying not to bother her husband. Richard knew his wife was awake and he knew something was on her mind. He turned on his side propping his head up with his right hand while he trailed his left hand down her face, "What is it?"

She opened her eyes, "Old fears"

"of?" He asked softly.

She slung her arm over her eyes and mumbled, "horses."

Richard chewed on his lip so his sigh wouldn't be heard. He sat up and encouraged Isobel to do the same. He moved back against the headboard and pulled her flush against him so she was sitting up straight. His hand then glided down her spine and in reflex she straightened.

"Good, remember your posture." He praised.

Hooking his chin over her left shoulder he rasped, "Show me your right foot"

Isobel crossed her right leg over her left and pointed her right foot so the toes were pointing up towards the ceiling while her heel pointed at the mattress.

"Good, lass" he cheered again.

A warm hand came up underneath her nightgown beneath her breasts to rest below her ribcage. "What do we do with this?"

"Balance" she whispered before turning in his arms to kiss him.

Friday night saw the return of Matthew. He had caught the train and brought with him his bag. After dinner he and Richard sat by the fire polishing riding boots for the morning while Isobel mended any tears in their clothes.

All were gathered at the stables, the grooms were still readying the horses. Richard quickly noted that a gelding had been fitted with one-stirrup. He hoped this would be Isobel's horse. "Isobel" Richard called her over and nodded toward the grey gelding. She went towards it and Lord Grantham moved to intercept her. "I hope you don't mind I spoke with Mr. Mason. He told us your preference with horses and we had our grooms fit Pebble here."

"Pebble?" Isobel repeated the name letting herself become familiar with it.

Soon all the horses were ready, Richard gave Isobel a leg up. Making sure she was positioned correctly before moving to his assigned horse. Mary and Sybil would also be riding. Edith and Cora had gone ahead to the picnic spot. Matthew and Richard were the last to mount and soon they were trotting along in a line.

Richard was enjoying himself, he loved riding. However, this slow pace was eating at him. "Lord Grantham, is the spot on the west side?"

"Yes, near the border by the oak trees." He confirmed.

The smile Richard sported was infectious and Isobel couldn't help but be swept along, "Oh go on I'll be fine. Pebble is looking after me."

"Do you mind Lord Grantham?" Clarkson asked.

"No, by all means."

"I'll follow you." Matthew added.

Richard and Matthew dug in their heels and their mares responded galloping off in the direction Grantham had mentioned. Mary shot a look to Sybil and the two of them moved out of the pack as well to follow the two men. That left Lord Grantham and Isobel who followed at a canter.

Robert inwardly chuckled, his eldest daughter was fuming. He could guess that she thought Matthew would be inexperienced with horses having lived in Manchester. What she and he had both failed to realize was that Dr. Clarkson was a most experienced rider. With his teachings it seemed anyone could master a horse. Movement caught his attention as Isobel drew level with him. "Well if he decides to get out of medicine he could make a fortune giving lessons" Grantham said with a laugh.

Isobel smirked, "Well he got me on a horse and that is saying something."

Grantham laughed again as the two of them followed the rest of the pack to the picnic spot.


	18. Chapter 18

Richard and Matthew arrived at the picnic spot and took in the surroundings. To Richard it was a good blend of power and subtlety. The doctor mentally nodded, the spot had been chosen well. If you were to spin around most of the land you could see belonged to the Crawley family. However, the domineering Abbey couldn't be seen for it was behind a hill. This meeting was more an attempt to woo than to demand. Hopefully this setting would put people more at ease. He knew that he couldn't change this situation so he remembered what Daniel had said, _You have to let it go._

Inhaling deeply he let his eyes shut as he tilted his head up to the sun.

Matthew smiled at the sight, he remembered how his stepfather had been almost resentful of the sun after he had come home from South Africa. The giving orb of light had been a reminder of pain and loss. Matthew swallowed ever since the mention of Dr. Miller the other night at dinner he had been thinking of the past. He took a moment to glance over to Mary and Sybil. They were handing off the reins of their horses to a groom. At this Matthew sighed he and Richard had secured their own horses. No doubt this would give Mary more ammunition on how inappropriate he was being.

Mary had heard his sigh, "Are you all right?"

Matthew's head whirled toward her she sounded almost concerned. He simply inclined his head toward Clarkson, "I'm just glad to see him happy." Mary glanced at the Doctor, while she knew he had come to Downton shortly before the birth of her youngest sister it felt as though he had always been in village. She felt comfortable around him, he had treated her and her family yet she knew so little about him, almost like a distant uncle. Seeing Matthew call him Richard had been a bit of shock for it drove home the point that he was a man and not just a doctor.

Whatever Mary was going to say died as Lord Grantham and Isobel rode into their little camp. At the sound of their approach Richard's eyes instantly opened and he went to his wife to help her down from her horse. He whispered to her and a smile was her answer before his hands splayed around her waist to guide her down. Matthew emitted a small laugh and Mary came beside him, "Is something funny?"

Matthew turned and regarded Mary, her hair was a dark brown and had been swept up to keep out of her face during riding. Her dark eyes seemed to smolder with warmth and her skin was flawless-she was beautiful. Offering an olive branch he spoke, "Mother has been afraid of horses and riding for years. It took Richard, that is Dr. Clarkson, to get her comfortable with riding." Matthew discretely pointed, "This is something he always does, asks if she is alright after a ride and she smiles if she is."

"And if she isn't?" Mary asked softly.

Matthew swallowed, "You know it's never gotten that far. There was one time at Mason Farm when she was becoming more comfortable with riding and with all things you can get over confident. We were all out, I went on ahead and she meant to follow. She slipped in her saddle, not much but her posture was off, the stirrup skewed, but he was right beside her. Magnus, the horse she was on wouldn't have bolted, but he snatched the reins anyway, it was frightening. She told all of us that she was fine but he wouldn't hear of it. We dismounted, mucked out the stables and called it a day. After that she was hesitant but determined to ride. He knew she was scared and wouldn't let her ride until he knew she was ready."

She didn't say "good man" or "how sweet" she merely smiled genuinely and said, "If Richard is what you call your stepfather by all means continue. No need to call him Dr. Clarkson on my account."

With a truce declared the picnic commenced, the food was praised and topics were kept neutral. Nonetheless, nearing the end Lord Grantham brought up Crawley House. To this Isobel weighed in, "Well Crawley House sounds delightful for Matthew. Thank you so much for offering it to him."

Matthew expelled a breath, "It's rather large Mother, hope I won't get lost."

"Oh Nonsense, besides we'll be just down the road if you shout loud enough we can come get you." Isobel returned her tone just as jovial.

At this Mary laughed, and it was not the forced laugh of a bored debutante. Robert opened his mouth to extend the invitation to Dr. Clarkson and Isobel but stopped when he felt Cora's hand on his forearm. She had just seen her daughter open up to Matthew and didn't want the moment spoiled.

Richard's neck had tensed when he heard the mention of Crawley House. The fact that Matthew was to be the future heir was starting to sink in. He had absolutely no desire to be going to dinners and wearing tails every night. Nonetheless, if it was Isobel wanted he would wear tails to the hospital if need be. If it helped Matthew for them to move into Crawley house full of art and servants he would do it.

As they prepared to ride back Richard guided Isobel to her horse Pebble. Before he lifted her into the saddle he leaned forward. "If you want to go to Crawley house to be with Matthew I'll go."

He watched as his wife's face brightened into a smile, while the years had given her visage a few more wrinkles she was still had the ability to make his heart glow. "I love our home, it's ours." She turned to look at her son, he reminded her of Reginald. Turning back to Richard, "He needs his space, room to come into his own without his Mother getting on at him for dirty teacups and socks on the floor. Besides I'm a Clarkson not a Crawley."

He gave her a leg up and watched as she adjusted her body. It took a moment for her back was stiff from sitting on a picnic blanket. Richard's hands never left the bridle and he wouldn't be letting go until she was settled. The stirrup was placed, her toes positioned and she was ready.

On her own mare Mary had been watching, she saw the doctor say something to his wife that obviously gave her pleasure. This gift was returned as she watched the doctor's face light up with the same emotion. She then watched as Isobel was methodically placed in the saddle and the doctor's face change from merriment to assessment as one hand steadied the horse as the other steadied a stirrup.

The doctor and Matthew flanked Isobel as they began to leave the picnic area. Mary and Sybil came behind and all the riders began to move out. It was a slow trot back through the land which gave the riders a chance to talk. Mary found herself alongside Matthew, "you know I can draw you a map if you like."

"Sorry?" Matthew asked.

"For Crawley house, I know all the hiding spots." Mary said with smirk.

Cora and Isobel smiled at this fact.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sick, save the torches and pitchforks for when I'm well. **


	19. Chapter 19

Isobel was beginning to feel the same kind of tension that Richard had. She had been summoned to the Abbey for tea. The Dowager Countess was there along with Lady Cora and her daughters. Once again the bland neutral were spoke of but Isobel could feel that there was an ulterior motive behind it all.

The Dowager made a remark about Isobel's hands, "Have you ever tried any of the French hand creams?"

"I beg your pardon?" Isobel asked genuinely confused.

"Chapped hands, you must wash your hands so much." The dowager remarked as she pointed to Isobel's hands with her teacup.

Isobel clasped her hands in her lap, suddenly self conscious. "Yes, I do wash my hand frequently, cuts down on infection."

The dowager smiled more like grimaced as her hand flew to her throat, "Yes of course. Have you ever thought of giving your hands a rest? Let them heal?"

Isobel shot a look to Lady Cora who merely stared straight ahead like a child pretending to be invisible. This had to do with Matthew, the mother of the future earl of Grantham couldn't be seen as a lowly nurse. However, she would be damned if this woman was going to oust her. Hoping not to cause too much of a stir with her reply she asked, "Could you write down the name of a particular cream? I could then purchase some see how it helps with the chapping?"

"I'll send you some" The Dowager delivered in a clipped tone.

Isobel inwardly sighed, a draw was a win where she was concerned.

Later that night when Richard returned to the cottage he saw a package on the small table, he went over to it, "What is this?"

"Don't even ask!" Isobel said in a raised voice.

Richard pursed his lips and blew out a breath, something had upset his wife. He went looking for her and found her on the bed seemingly inspecting her hands. He looked at her hands, there were no cuts, no burns or any other discoloration. He strode forward and took her hands in his, he applied gentle pressure until she looked at him.

"What was said to you?" He asked.

Slowly she told him of the meeting, of the subtle hint to abandon nursing in favor of something more suitable of a woman of her position. Richard bit his lip to keep from snarling, no one told his wife what to do.

This business with Matthew being the heir was becoming more tenuous. Suddenly he was glad that Isobel had decided to stay here in the Cottage. It could be their fort, safely they would stay inside the walls.

Until Lord Grantham pulls the rug out His treacherous mind rallied. He told it to shut up.

He sat beside his wife and drew her to him, "Do you remember the ball?"

"Of course I do" She said with a smile.

"This is no different." He said softly.

Isobel was puzzled.

Richard's left hand swept a stray piece of hair away from her face. "Close your eyes."

She did as she was instructed. "Can you see us on the dance floor? People wanting us to leave? Snide comments?"

Isobel and Richard both chuckled at his last comment but he continued, "What did we do?"

"We kept dancing." She answered confidently.

"This is no different." He said again before leaning in to press his lips against hers.

The dowager countess was reading a letter, her son noted how her lips had thinned as she read. "Interesting reading?"

"If you care for fiction" She snapped as she handed over the letter. Robert took it and scanned it.

_Thank you for the hand cream, I keep it with me at the hospital. I use it after every hand washing and it is becoming indispensable. I have ordered more so others at the hospital can use it as well. I have even recommended it Dr. Clarkson since it has no fragrance. Thank you once again for your kind gesture._

_Sincerely,_

_Nurse Clarkson_

Robert was not lost on how Isobel had signed it-Nurse Clarkson.

He waved the piece of paper, "There are no threats in here, just thanks."

Robert watched as his mother's hand clenched around the fine silver handle of her cane. Her way of expressing annoyance. Any further attempts to shuffle the Clarkson's into a more suitable position soon were abandoned. Lord Grantham had grasped this concept once it had been shown to him by his wife. Matthew was the heir and should be groomed accordingly not his mother or stepfather. Besides being in medicine both had already secured a position of respect and honor.

While Mary wouldn't admit she was falling for Matthew, realizing this fact had her trying to keep him at arms length. Damn her Mother, damn her father! Damn everyone for pushing them together. She felt as though she was a mare being forced into a breeding stall. Was this to be her life? Become a broodmare just to produce another Earl of Grantham? Luckily they would be going to London soon.

In the weeks that the Crawley's were away the Clarkson's felt a sort of peace. There were no summons to the Abbey or any other functions to attend. Matthew had settled nicely into the law office in Ripon. In the meantime all could forget about future problems.

It wasn't long before the bubble burst, Dr. Clarkson had been called for. He was surprised when he discovered that Lady Cora had sent for him. O'Brien showed him to her bedroom, as he went in he that she was standing gazing through the window. She then turned and Clarkson's eyes began assessing her, he knew within three seconds that she was with child. He directed her to lie down and he began his examination. When he was done he gathered his things and went to leave.

"Hello, Doctor. I didn't know you were here." Came the cheerful greeting from lord Grantham.

"No, Lady Grantham sent a message."

"Why? She's not ill, is she?" Clarkson noted the slight tinge of panic in his voice and quickly deduced that Lady Cora hadn't told her husband.

Clarkson sighed, he had to dance around the topic, "Not ill, exactly."

Realization flared in the Earl and his eyes widened, "Would you mind waiting in the library?

Clarkson knew a command when he heard one even one as polite as this.

When Lord Grantham returned Clarkson noted, "It's...unusual, obviously."

"Unusual? It's Biblical." The man nearly spat.

At this Richard chuckled openly, time for a lesson, "Not quite. You understand that women go through a...a certain... change."

"Thank you. I know quite as much as I need to about all that." The Lord said with disdain.

Keen to continue the lesson Clarkson continued, "Well, sometimes it can result in a...a surge of...fertility, for want of a better word."

"But the child will be healthy?"

Clarkson mentally reviewed Cora's history, "Oh, there's no reason why not."

Still stunned Grantham asked, "How long has she...?"

The doctor cocked his head, "Hard to be precise. Things had become irregular, but…"

"Please." Grantham said as he held up his hand not wanting to hear anymore.

Knowing not to use weeks or mention menstrual cycles he spoke, "I'd say she's about four months gone. It'll begin to show soon."

An idea was forming in Robert's head, "And I don't suppose there's any way of knowing if it's a…"

Clarkson could see the wheels turning in the Lord's head and vehemently shook his own in the negative, "No."

That night as they lay together in bed Richard told Isobel what had transpired. Isobel felt a stab of fear, for her son. She knew that he loved Mary, she could see it on his face. She also knew that things were not resolved, there was no sense of permanence. Her mind quickly put together a scenario, if Lady Cora gave birth to a son in five months time then things would go back to normal as it were. Her son would no doubt have a broken heart but that would mend. She shivered and Richard pulled her to him, both knew the stirrings in Europe. Another War was coming but for the meantime they were ignoring it.

The first holes that poked through this curtain of ignorance was wielded by a footman. Richard did not like Thomas, he had a slippery quality to him. Nonetheless, when he asked to serve in medical corps Clarkson could not deny him. He submitted his name to the territorial force hospitals and waited.

The curtain was ripped away fully by a letter. Once again the Royal Army Medical Corps was calling him, once again to be a Captain. He shoved the letter in his pocket not wanting Isobel to see it. Along with this letter was the paperwork for Thomas Barrow.

After he was done with Barrow Richard found Matthew, his stepson seemed forlorn. He recognized the look having seen it on soldiers faces waiting for a letter from a sweetheart. The last thing he wanted was to add to the youngman's misery but he had to tell him. He held out the letter and Matthew took it.

"Where will you be sent?"

Richard shrugged, "Haven't a clue as of yet, might not be sent anywhere. There are whispers that Downton Cottage hospital is to be commandeered by the Army."

Matthew's arm shot out and gripped Richard's forearm. "God I hope so."

Matthew dug his fingers into Richard's arm forcing him to look, "If there is to be a war I will volunteer. I won't have Mother waiting for an envelope...understand?"

Richard remembered the look Isobel carried when the he and Matthew returned from riding all those years ago, "Yes, I do."

After that meeting the reality of all seemed to shatter like an icicle falling off of a roof. Lady Cora slipped, she was ushered to bed but half an hour later her body was wracked with cramps. Dr. Clarkson was summoned as he entered the Abbey he could hear a woman in throes of active labor and struck by how everything had come full circle. However, instead of delivering a healthy full term newborn he deliverd a fetus just shy of 18 weeks. He had asked for Isobel to be brought, she guided Cora through delivery. When the baby was delivered Isobel wrapped it carefully and lovingly and Cora had howled, "I don't want to see, please don't make me see."

"No one is going to make you see" She soothed.

Richard and herself formed a wall with their bodies as the bundle was placed inside a basin. Isobel wiped Cora's face as Dr. Clarkson tended to her. When it was evident that she was physically stable he went to inform Lord Grantham. Isobel would take care of Cora's emotional well-being.

Lord Grantham was in the library a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, he had lost count of how many times he had refilled it. When the doctor appeared he didn't acknowledge him he merely murmured, "Is it over?"

Clarkson nodded solemnly "Yes, M'lord...will there be anything else?"

"What was it?"

Dr. Clarkson kept his mouth shut until Lord Grantham turned towards him, "Please tell me. I have to know."

Dr. Clarkson closed his eyes, "Lady Cora delivered a boy."

The clocks didn't stop ticking, the wind did not cease to blow and the sky did not fall. In fact the Earl's senses seemed razor sharp, he could hear the grandfather clock, the maids scurrying about. Life was going on, things must continue.

Mary cloistered herself with her mother it wasn't until the garden party that she and matthew had a chance to talk. Mary prided herself for not being a gambler however, she had gambled with Matthew. Keeping him on a string until she could determine if her new sibling would open doors or close them. Her stack of chips were dwindling and the cards that once looked so promising were quickly turning into Aces and Eights as her mother had told her once.

When Matthew wished her happiness the heart she had told people she didn't have shattered and she scurried away. _ Could this week get any worse?_

The answer came in the form an announcement from her Father-War had been declared.

Isobel looked at her husband and found his face an impassive mask _he already knew_!

She then shot a look at her son and saw his face set in grim determination not unlike the look Richard had worn when he had been summoned to South Africa. Despite the sun beating down on her shoulders she shivered and Richard's hand threaded through hers. Both men she loved would be going to war.


	20. Chapter 20

Isobel was numb, she refused to be anything else. Her son had enlisted and was a Lieutenant. Her husband was once again a Captain. If she allowed herself to feel anger that would be acknowledging the unfairness of the War. Instead she went through her days with a cool clinical detachment. Patients were flooding the hospital and the Army had just demanded that more patients be sent. The hospital's day room was going to be converted, nonetheless things were needed.

Richard looked into the ward and saw Isobel moving from patient to patient. She had his stethoscope around her neck. This sight made his heartache for that had been the only thing of his that she had touched in weeks. Things between had been strained, he knew she held anger towards him for Matthew. The hospital had become a wedge between them. He spent more nights in his overnight cot then in their bed and that saddened him. Now with the command of the Army to have more patients he felt as if he were being exiled from his wife.

Lord Grantham met him in the library.

"Dr. Clarkson, sorry Captain, what brings you here?"

"The hospital, the Army has decreed that more patients be sent."

"how much more?" Grantham demanded.

Reaching into his pocket Clarkson held out the correspondence from the Army. Grantham took it and his eyes widened as he read it, "It doesn't mention funding."

"No it doesn't" Clarkson said with venom.

Grantham's eyes narrowed before he spoke, "We'll have a gathering here. I'll invite _everyone_. The hospital will not suffer, you have my word."

Clarkson sighed and he felt some of the tension release from his shoulders, this was one hurdle navigated.

With Clarkson alone Grantham asked, "Any word from Matthew?"

"The last letter we had from him he was in France- northern section. He's well, in good spirits as far as we can determine. He should have leave soon." Clarkson informed.

At this Grantham nodded.

Isobel's cool clinical detachment was shattered days later. Richard called her over to help move a patient. As they lifted him onto the bed Isobel looked at him, he had been badly burned, his face wrapped in bandages. However, it was small tuft of blonde hair that caught her attention. It reminded her of Matthew. She had no clue how she got through her shift. Somehow she made it home.

Not long after Richard followed her, he found her on the floor her upper body being supported by the seat of the armchair. Her whole body shook with sobs but incredibly she made no noise. Her mouth was open and it sure looked as if she were screaming but she wasn't. Richard quickly shucked off his uniform tunic so none of his uniform insignia would jab her and quickly joined her on the floor pulling her to him. Her hands clenched into fists and she pounded his shoulders and chest. It was only a few strikes and Richard welcomed them. She needed to do this, she needed to feel.

For too long she had been keeping the world from touching her, keeping anything from touching her. If he really wanted to he could have looked at his wrist to see the passage of time but he didn't. Thinking of his wristwatch made him think of his pocket watch. He had given it Matthew as a loan. He remembered his stepson's face as he handed it to him.

_Both were dressed in uniform, one an Army Doctor the other an Army Soldier. Matthew was going to board a train before taking a boat to France. Richard reached into his pocket and withdrew his fist. He held it out to Matthew and the Lieutenant cupped his own hands underneath the Captains. Richard opened his fist and the pocket watch fell gracefully into Matthew's hands._

_"I can't take this." Matthew said wide eyed._

_"It's a loan, I expect you to bring it back to me." Richard said softly._

_Matthew's own hands grasped the watch before putting in his pocket. The signalmen were waving it was time for Matthew to board. "I know you will but take care of Mother."_

_"I shall."_

_Matthew tried to smile, Richard's hand gripped his shoulder trying to infuse courage, knowledge and hope. As Matthew reached for the door of the car Richard spoke, "Aim true and put your man down."_

Isobel had finally quieted, Richard studied his wife, her hair was tousled, eyes red rimmed from crying, nose slightly running-she was beautiful.

His forefinger stroked her cheek, "you're beautiful."

Her head ducked and he used his hand to tilt her face back up to his, "You're beautiful." He repeated. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to hers to prove his point. He then stood and pulled her up with him. He led her to the bathroom and ran her a bath. He knew which type of bath salts she liked but he had no clue of how much to add. He shrugged and poured a hefty amount in. Isobel smiled at this.

He removed her dress, corset and stockings before offering a hand so she could step into the tub. As she soaked she told him of the patient that had triggered her breakdown. Richard listened to her as she told him of her anger, her fear and the numbness that she had wrapped around herself in an attempt to feel safe. She apologized for keeping him at arms length before expressing how she missed him.

He told her the Army was going to be sending more patients. Of the plans Lord Grantham had to organize a party to raise money for the hospital and finally how he loved her. That night they shared their bed and held one another. It was the first respite either one had had in months.

Mary had nearly been caught by Edith praying. She had been able to laugh it off as picking up a book that had fallen. What Edith didn't know was the book was from Dr. Clarkson's library, Matthew had given it to her to read. Mary kept his picture and his letters between its pages. She removed the picture and placed it on her bed. She knelt beside it feeling absurd for engaging in a practice that she had all but abandoned as a child. She clasped her hands and began, "Dear Lord, I don't pretend to have much credit with you. I'm not even sure that you're there. But if you are, and if I've ever done anything good, I beg you to keep him safe."

That was all she could manage before a lump formed in her throat, she quickly murmured "Amen." before pulling back the covers and climbing into her bed. She reached for the book and withdrew the last letter he had sent her.

_Dearest Mary,_

_ Your letters make me smile, in fact many here wish to know why I smile so much. I know that you take most of the blame for what happened between us but for us to move forward you need to know that some of the blame is mine. We were both thrust into this situation, it has been through these letters that I have come to truly know you and I hope you know me. I have leave coming and am looking forward to seeing you._

_ yours,_

_ Matthew_

Lord Grantham had invited everyone he knew with a large pocketbook to come to Downton Abbey. His staff had rolled up the carpet, and moved furniture to make a large space-there was going to be dancing.

As he put on his dress uniform in his office he felt as he did nearly twenty years ago preparing for the physician's ball. The last thing he wanted was to schmooze with the upper-crust nonetheless they would be the ones funding the hospital so he would go. Isobel was already at the Abbey, he had had to stay behind to finish with the patients. She had been willing to stay but he had sent her on ahead.

Inside the Abbey he noted it was full, a quartet was playing music and a few were dancing. In a old habit Richard leaned against a wall watching those around him. Many were in the uniform dress of the Army. So far he was the only doctor, his uniform held a deeper red than the soldiers. A flash of blue garnered his attention and his breath caught in his throat. Isobel was moving towards him. Her face held a small smile and he found he couldn't move. She held out her hand and he took it, silently obeying her command. The dance floor seemed to part for them and they came together. The last strains of the quartet ended and they waited to see what would be played next. A waltz began and they moved in time, gracefully moving along with the other couples. Lord and Lady Grantham were also dancing however, the eyes in the room did not seem to be drawn to them. Instead the gazes of crowd seemed to be fixated on the Doctor and his wife.

Mary watched them all as they danced, secretly wishing that Matthew was there. She noted a dress uniform alongside of her and mentally sighed. She didn't want to dance with another unknown soldier making small talk.

"lovely dress" The soldier remarked.

She was going to huff a breath but there was something in the voice that made Mary's stomach drop, as she turned her eyes showed her shock as she saw Matthew. She blinked hard, certain that she was hallucinating. Matthew merely smiled and cocked his head to the side, "care to dance?"

She still couldn't speak so she nodded. He led her to the dance floor where they moved along with the other couples. Matthew maneuvered them so they were beside Richard and Isobel. It was Richard who saw him first his face breaking into a wide grin, "Still have my watch?"

Isobel was confused and Richard expertly turned her so she could see her son who was also grinning madly with Lady Mary in his arms. Matthew stopped dancing leaned in to kiss his Mother all the while still holding Mary's hand. He then extended his hand for Richard to shake as was their customary greeting. In that moment she had everything she had ever wanted, her husband in her arms and her son happy. While it would be a long and hard road they would make it for they were together.

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**A/N: I hope you all have enjoyed. I have some other pots bubbling away on my fanfic stove so keep a look out. **


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